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* 


SARTOR  RESARTUS 


THE  LIFE  AND  OPINIONS 


HERR  TEUEELSDROOKH 


BY 

THOMAS  CARLYLE 


SHetit  2$enttdd)tntf?,  rote  Ijerrlidt)  roett  uttb  brett ! 

Ste  3dt  ift  ntetu  Sermadjtnig,  mein  Sttcfer  tft  bte  3ett 


CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK  : 
BELFORD,  CLARKE  & COMPANY, 
Publishers, 


TAOW'B 

NtlNTIN#  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY, 

AIW  YORK. 


TESTIMONIES  OF  AUTHORS. 


I.  Highest  Class,  Bookseller’s  Taster. 

Taster  to  Bookseller. — “The  Author  of  Teufelsdrockh  is  a person  of 
talent ; his  work  displays  here  and  there  some  felicity  of  thought  and 
expression,  considerable  fancy  and  knowledge : but  whether  or  not  it 
would  take  with  the  public  seems  doubtful.  For  a jeu  d'esprit  of  that 
kind,  it  is  too  long ; it  would  have  suited  better  as  an  essay  or  article 
than  as  a volume.  The  Author  has  no  great  tact : his  wit  is  frequently 
heavy  ; and  reminds  one  of  the  German  Ba^on  who  took  to  leaping  on 
tables,  and  answered  that  he  was  learning  to  be  lively.  Is  the  work  a 
translation  ? ” 

Bookseller  to  Editor. — “Allow  me  to  say  that  such  a writer  requires 
only  a little  more  tact  to  produce  a popular  as  well  as  an  able  work. 
Directly  on  receiving  your  permission,  I sent  your  MS.  to  a gentleman 
in  the  highest  class  of  men  of  letters,  and  an  accomplished  German 
scholar  ; I now  enclose  you  his  opinion,  which,  you  may  rely  upon  it, 
is  a just  one  ; and  I have  too  high  an  opinion  of  your  good  sense  to  ” &c. 
&c. — MS.  {jpenes  nos)}  London , 17 th  September , 1831. 

II.  Critic  of  the  Sun. 

“Fraser’s  Magazine  exhibits  the  usual  brilliancy,  and  also  the  ” &c. 
“ Sartor  Resartus  is  what  old  Dennis  used  to  call  4 a heap  of  clotted  non- 
sense,’ mixed,  however,  here  and  there,  with  passages  marked  by 
thought  and  striking  poetic  vigour.  But  what  does  the  writer  mean  by 
* Baphometic  fire-baptism  ? ’ Why  cannot  he  lay  aside  his  pedantry,  and 
write  so  as  to  make  himself  generally  intelligible  ? We  quote  by  way  of 
curiosity  a sentence  from  the  Sartor  Resartus;  which  may  be  read  either 
backwards  or  forwards,  for  it  is  equally  intelligible  either  way.  Indeed, 
by  beginning  at  the  tail,  and  so  working  up  to  the  head,  we  think  the 
reader  will  stand  the  fairest  chance  of  getting  at  its  meaning : ‘ The 
fire-baptised  soul,  long  so  scathed  and  thunder-riven,  here  feels  its  own 
freedom  ; which  feeling  is  its  Baphometic  baptism : the  citadel  of  its 
whole  kingdom  it  has  thus  gained  by  assault,  and  will  keep  inexpug- 
nable ; outwards  from  which  the  remaining  dominions,  not  indeed  with- 
out hard  battering,  will  doubtless  by  degrees  be  conquered  and  pacifi* 
cated.’  Here  is  a” — . . . . — Sun  Newspaper  April,  1834. 


4 


TESTIMONIES  OF  AUTHORS. 


TTT.  North  American  Reviewer. 

. ...  44  After  a careful  survey  of  the  whole  ground,  our  belie'  ^ 

is  that  no  such  persons  as  Professor  Teufelsdrockh  or  Counseller  Heusch  1 
recke  ever  existed  ; that  the  six  Paper-bags,  with  their  China-ink  in 
scriptions  and  multifarious  contents,  are  a mere  figment  of  the  brain 
that  the  4 present  Editor  ’ is  the  only  person  who  has  ever  written  upoi 
the  Philosophy  of  Clothes;  and  that  the  Sartor  Resartus  is  the  onlj 
taeatise  that  has  yet  appeared  upon  that  subject  ; — in  short,  that  th< 
whole  account  of  the  origin  of  the  work  before  us,  which  the  supposec 
Editor  relates  with  so  much  gravity,  and  of  which  we  have  given  a brie, 
abstract,  is,  in  plain  English,  a hum. 

“Without  troubling  our  readers  at  any  great  length  with  our  reason; 
for  entertaining  these  suspicions,  we  may  remark,  that  the  absence  o 
all  other  information  on  the  subject,  except  what  is  contained  in  th< 
work,  is  itself  a fact  of  a most  significant  character.  The  whole  Germai 
press,  as  well  as  the  particular  one  where  the  work  purports  to  hav< 
been  printed,  seems  to  be  under  the  control  of  Stillschweigen  and  CoVnie- 
—Silence  and  Company.  If  the  Clothes-Philosophy  and  its  Autlio 
are  making  so  great  a sensation  throughout  Germany  as  is  pretended 
how  happens  it  that  the  only  notice  we  have  of  the  fact  is  contained  in  « 
few  numbers  of  a monthy  Magazine,  published  at  London  ? IIow  hap 
pens  it  that  no  intelligence  about  the  matter  has  come  out  directly  t 
this  country  ? We  pique  ourselves  here  in  New  England  upon  knowing 
at  least  as  much  of  what  is  going  on  in  the  literary  way  in  the  old  Dutci 
Mother-land  as  our  brethren  of  the  fast-anchored  Isle  ; but  thus  far  w 
have  no  tidings  whatever  of  the  4 extensive  close-printed  close  meditatec 
volume,*  which  forms  the  subject  of  this  pretended  commentary 
Again,  we  would  respectfully  inquire  of  the  4 present  Editor  ’ upon  win 
part  of  the  map  of  Germany  are  we  to  look  for  the  city  of  Weissniclitwc 
— 4 Know-n ot- where,’  at  which  place  the  work  is  supposed  to  have  bee': 
printed  and  the  Author  to  have  resided.  It  has  been  our  fortune  tj 
visit  several  portions  of  the  German  territory,  and  to  examine  prett 
carefully,  at  different  times  and  for  various  purposes,  maps  of  th 
whole  ; but  we  have  no  recollection  of  any  such  place.  We  suspec 
that  the  city  of  ICnow-not-where  might  be  called,  with  at  least  as  mucJ 
propriety,  Nobody-knows-where , and  is  to  be  found  in  the  kingdom  o 
Nowhere.  Again,  the  village  of  Entepfuhl , — 4 Duck-pond,’  where  th 
supposed  Author  of  the  work  is  said  to  have  passed  his  youth,  and  tlia 
of  Hinterschlag , where  he  had  his  education,  are  equally  foreign  to  ou 
geography.  Duck-ponds  enough  there  undoubtedly  are  in  almost  ever 
village  in  Germany,  as  the  traveller  in  that  country  knows  too  well  t 
his  cost,  but  any  particular  village  denominated  Duck-pond  is  to  us  altc 
gether  terra  incognita . The  names  of  the  personages  are  not  less  singu 


TESTIMONIES  OF  AUTHORS. 


5 


tar  than  those  of  the  places.  Who  can  refrain  from  a smile  at  the  yok- 
ii g together  of  such  a pair  of  appellatives  as  Diogenes  Teufelsdrockh  ? 
rhe  supposed  bearer  of  this  strange  title  is  represented  as  admitting  in 
ais  pretended  autobiography,  that  4 he  had  searched  to  no  purpose 
through  all  the  Heralds’  books  in  and  without  the  German  empire,  and 
through  all  manner  of  Subscribers’-lists,  Militia-rolls,  and  other  Name- 
jatalogues,’  but  had  nowhere  been  able  to  find  4 the  name  Teufels- 
Irdckh,  except  as  appended  to  his  own  person.’  We  can  readily  believe 
his,  and  we  doubt  very  much  whether  any  Christian  parent  would 
hink  of  condemning  a son  to  carry  through  life  the  burden  of  so  un- 
pleasant a title.  That  of  Counsellor  Heuschrecke,— Grasshopper, 
hough  not  offensive,  looks  much  more  like  a piece  of  fancy-work  than 
t ‘fair  business  transaction.’  The  same  may  be  said  of  Blumine , — 
Flower  Goddess,  the  heroine  of  the  fable,  and  so  of  the  rest. 

4 ‘In  short,  our  private  opinion  is,  as  we  have  remarked,  that  the 
vhole  story  of  a correspondence  with  Germany,  a university  of  Nobody- 
mows- where,  a Professor  of  Things  in  General,  a Counsellor  Grasshop- 
per a Flower-Goddess  Blumine,  and  so  forth,  has  about  as  much  foun- 
lation  in  truth,  as  the  late  entertaining  account  of  Sir  John  Herschel’s 
liscoveries  in  the  moon.  Fictions  of  this  kind  are,  however,  not  un- 
jommon,  and  ought  not,  perhaps,  to  be  condemned  with  too  much  se- 
verity ; but  we  are  not  sure  that  we  can  exercise  the  same  indulgence 
n regard  to  the  attempt  which  seems  to  be  made  to  mislead  the  public 
is  to  the  substance  of  the  work  before  us,  and  its  pretended  German 
>riginal.  Both  purport,  as  we  have  seen,  to  be  upon  the  subject  of 
Clothes,  or  dress.  Clothes , their  Origin  and  Influence , is  the  title  of  the 
supposed  German  treatise  of  Professor  Teufelsdrockh,  and  the  rather 
>dd  name  of  Sartor  Resartus , — the  Tailor  Patched, — which  the  present 
Editor  has  affixed  to  his  pretended  commentary,  seems  to  look  the  same 
vay.  But  though  there  is  a good  deal  of  remark  throughout  the  work 
n a half-serious,  half-comic  style  upon  dress,  it  seems  to  be  in  reality  a 
reatise  upon  the  great  science  of  Things  in  General,  which  Teufels- 
Irockli  is  supposed  to  have  professed  at  the  university  of  Nobody-knows- 
vhere.  Now,  without  intending  to  adopt  a too  rigid  standard  of  morals, 
ve  own  that  we  doubt  a little  the  propriety  of  offering  to  the  public  a 
reatise  on  Things  in  General,  under  the  name  and  in  the  form  of  an 
Essay  on  Dress.  For  ourselves,  advanced  as  we  unfortunately  are  in 
lie  journey  of  life,  far  beyond  the  period  when  dress  is  practically  a 
natter  of  interest,  we  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  the  real  subject 
)f  the  work  is  to  us  more  attractive  than  the  ostensible  one.  But  this 
s probably  not  the  case  with  the  mass  of  readers.  To  the  younger  por- 
Ion  of  the  community,  which  constitutes  every  where  the  very  great 
najority,  the  subject  of  dress  is  one  of  intense  and  paramount  impor- 
tance. An  author  who  treats  it  appeals  like  the  poet,  to  the  young  men 
ind  maidens  —virginibus  puerisyue, — and  calls  upon  them  by  all  the 


6 


testimonies  of  authors. 


motives  which  habitually  operate  most  strongly  upon  their  feelings 
buy  his  book.  When,  after  opening  their  purses  for  this  purpose, 
have  carried  home  the  work  in  triumph,  expecting  to  find  in  it  sc 
■particular  instruction  in  regard  to  the  tying  of  their  neckcloths,  or 
cut  of  their  corsets,  and  meet  with  nothing  better  than  a disserta 
on  Things  in  General,  they  will, -to  use  the  mi.dest  term,  not  b 
very  good  humour.  If  the  last  improvements  in  legislation i whic  . 
have  made  in  this  country,  should  have  found  t eir  w y g 

the  author  we  think  would  stand  some  chance  of  being  Lync. 
Whether  his  object  in  this  piece  of  superchene  be  merely  pecun 
profit  or  whether  he  takes  a malicious  pleasure  m quizzing  the  I 
ILs  we  shall  not  undertake  to  say.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  work 
devotes  a separate  chapter  to  this  class  of  persons,  from  the  tenon 
which  we  should  be  disposed  to  conclude  that 
mode  of  divesting  them  of  their  property  very  much  m the  nature 

SP°‘The  only^hingf about  the  work,  tending  to  prove  that  it  is  wh 
purports  to  be,  a "commentary  on  a real  German  treatise  is  the  a 
which  is  a sort  of  Babylonish  dialect,  not  destitute,  it  is  tiue,  of 
and  at  .L,  a »«  of  .ingul.t  MM?* 
very  strongly  tinged  throughout  with  the  peculiar  idiom  o.  the  Get, 
ranguage  This  quality  in  the  style,  however,  may  be  a mere  resr 
a great  familiarity  with  German  literature,  and  we  cannot,  tlieret 
look  upon  it  as  in  itself  decisive,  still  less  as  outweighing  so  nmch 
dence  of  an  opposite  character.”-^  Amervan  Rernv,,  No.  89, ; 

her,  1835. 


IV.  New-Bngland  Editors. 


.‘The  Editors  have  been  induced,  by  the  expressed  desire  of  i 
persons  to  collect  the  following  sheets  out  of  the  ephemeral  pamp  . 
in  which  they  first  appeared,  under  the  conviction  that  they  con  , 
themselves  the  assurance  of  a longer  date.  , l 

“The  Editors  have  no  expectation  that  this  little  Work  will 
sudden  and  general  popularity.  They  will  not  undertake  as  th 
no  need  to  justify  the  gay  costume  m which  the  Autho  g; 
dress  his  thoughts,  or  the  German  idioms  with  which  he  has  spoi 
sprinkled  his  pages.  It  is  his  humour  to  advance  the  grayest  sp 
tions  upon  the  gravest  topics  in  a quaint  and  burlesque  style. 
mtqZade  offend  any  of  his  audience,  to  that  deg  -«urt  thoy  w 
hear  what  he  has  to  say,  it  may  chance  to  draw  others  to  listen 
wisdom  • and  what  work  of  imagination  can  hope  to  please  all  . 
we  will  venture  to  remark  that  the  distaste  excited  by  these  pec 
tiesTn  some  readers  is  greatest  at  first,  and  is  soon  forgotten  ; an 
* “ Fraser’s  (London)  Magazine,  1833-4.” 


TESTIMONIES  OF  AUTHORS. 


7 


•reign  dress  and  aspect  of  the  Work  are  quite  superficial,  and  cover 
(uine  Saxon  heart.  We  believe,  no  book  has  been  published  for 
| years,  written  in  a more  sincere  style  of  idiomatic  English,  or 
i discovers  an  equal  mastery  over  all  the  riches  of  the  language. 
Luthor  makes  ample  amends  for  the  occasional  eccentricity  of  his 
s,  not  only  by  frequent  bursts  of  pure  splendour,  but  by  the  wit 
mse  which  never  fail  him. 

fut  what  will  chiefly  commend  the  Book  to  the  discerning  reader 
manifest  design  of  the  work,  which  is,  a Criticism  upon  the  Spirit 
\ Age, — we  had  almost  said,  of  the  hour,  in  which  we  live  ; exhib- 
in  the  most  just  and  novel  light  the  present  aspects  of  Religion, 
cs,  Literature,  Arts,  and  Social  Life.  Under  all  his  gaiety  the 
r has  an  earnest  meaning,  and  discovers  an  insight  into  the  mani- 
rants  and  tendencies  of  human  nature,  which  is  very  rare  among 
opular  authors.  The  philanthropy  and  the  purity  of  moral  senti- 
which  inspire  the  work,  will  find  their  way  to  the  heart  of  every 
of  virtue.” — Preface  to  Sartor  Resartus  : Boston , 1836,  1837. 


Sunt,  Fuerunt  yel  Fuere. 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  I. 


Chap.  I. 

II. 

III. 

JVH. 
VIII. 

IX. 

X. 
XI. 


Preliminary 

Editorial  Difficulties 

Reminiscences 

Characteristics 

The  World  in  Clothes 

Aprons 

Miscellaneous-historical. . . 
The  World  out  of  Clothes. 

Adamitism 

Pure  Reason 

Prospective 


PAGB. 
. 11 

. 15 
. 19 
. 80 
. 35 
. 41 
. 43 
. 47 
. 52 
. 56 
. 61 


BOOK  II. 


AP.  I.  Genesis 71 

II.  Idyllic 78 

III.  Pedagogy 8G 

IV  Getting  under  Way 100 

V.  Romance Ill 

VI.  Sorrows  of  Teufelsdrockh 122 

VII.  The  everlasting  No 131 

VIII.  Centre  of  Indifference 138 

IX.  The  everlasting  Yea 148 

X.  Pause 159 


10 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  III. 

Chap.  I.  Incident  in  Modern  History. . . . 
II.  Church-Clothes 

III.  Symbols 

IV.  Helotage 

Y.  The  Phoenix 

VI.  Old  Clothes 

VII.  Organic  Filaments 

VIII.  Natural  Supernaturalism 

IX.  Circumspective. 

X.  The  Dandiacal  Body 

XI.  Tailors 

XII.  Farewell... 


16* 
17! 
17$) 
1811 
185* 
190  i 


194  f 
202  / 
212 ; 
215 
227 
230  < 


SARTOR  RESARTITS. 


BOOK  I. 


CHAPTER  I 

PRELIMINARY. 

Considering  our  present  advanced  state  of  culture,  and  how 
the  Torch  of  Science  has  now  been  brandished  and  borne 
about,  with  more  or  less  effect,  for  five  thousand  years  and 
upwards  ; how,  in  these  times  especially,  not  only  the  Torch 
still  burns,  and  perhaps  more  fiercely  than  ever,  but  innu- 
merable Rust-lights,  and  Sulphur-matches,  kindled  thereat, 
are  also  glancing  in  every  direction,  so  that  not  the  smallest 
cranny  or  doghole  in  Nature  or  Art  can  remain  unilluminated, 
—it  might  strike  the  reflective  mind  with  some  surprise  that 
hitherto  little  or  nothing  of  a fundamental  character,  whether 
in  the  way  of  Philosophy  or  History,  has  been  written  on  the 
subject  of  Clothes. 

Oar  Theory  of  Gravitation  is  as  good  as  perfect : Lagrange, 
it  is  well  known,  has  proved  that  the  Planetary  System,  on 
this  scheme,  will  endure  for  ever  ; Laplace,  still  more  cun- 
ningly, even  guesses  that  it  could  not  have  been  made  on  any 
other  scheme.  Whereby,  at  least,  our  nautical  Logbooks  can 
be  better  kept ; and  water-tran sport  of  all  kinds  has  grown 
more  commodious.  Of  Geology  and  Geognosy  we  know 
enough  : what  with  the  labours  of  our  Werners  and  Huttons, 
what  with  the  ardent  genius  of  their  disciples,  it  has  come 
about  that  now,  to  many  a Royal  Society,  the  Creation  of  a 
World  is  little  more  mysterious  than  the  cooking  of  a Dump- 
ling ; concerning  which  last,  indeed,  there  have  been  minds 
to  whom  the  question,  How  the  Apples  were  got  in  presented 


12 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


difficulties.  Why  mention  our  disquisitions  on  the  Social 
Contract,  on  the  Standard  of  Taste,  on  the  Migrations  of  the 
Herring  ? Then,  have  we  not  a Doctrine  of  Eent,  a Theory 
of  Value  ; Philosophies  of  Language,  of  History,  of  Pottery, 
of  Apparitions,  of  Intoxicating  Liquors  ? Man’s  whole  life  and 
environment  have  been  laid  open  and  elucidated  ; scarcely  a 
fragment  or  fibre  of  his  Soul,  Body,  and  Possessions,  but  has 
been  probed,  dissected,  distilled,  desiccated,  and  scientifically 
decomposed  : our  spiritual  Faculties,  of  which  it  appears  there 
are  not  a few,  have  their  Stewarts,  Cousins,  Koyer  Collards  : 
every  cellular,  vascular,  muscular  Tissue  glories  in  its  Law- 
rences, Majendies,  Bichats. 

How,  then,  comes  it,  may  the  reflective  mind  repeat,  that 
the  grand  Tissue  of  all  Tissues,  the  only  real  Tissue,  should 
have  been  quite  overlooked  by  Science, — the  vestural  Tissue, 
namely,  of  woollen  or  other  cloth  ; which  Man’s  Soul  wears  as 
its  outmost  wrappage  and  overall ; wherein  his  whole  other 
Tissues  are  included  and  screened,  his  whole  Faculties  work, 
his  whole  Self  lives,  moves,  and  has  its  being  ? For  if,  now 
and  then,  some  straggling  broken- winged  thinker  has  cast  an 
owl’s  glance  into  this  obscure  region,  the  most  have  soared 
over  it  altogether  heedless  ; regarding  Clothes  as  a property, 
not  an  accident,  as  quite  natural  and  spontaneous,  like  the 
leaves  of  trees,  like  the  plumage  of  birds.  In  all  speculations 
they  have  tacitly  figured  man  as  a Clothed  Animal ; whereas 
he  is  by  nature  a Naked  Animal ; and  only  in  certain  circum- 
stances, by  purpose  and  device,  masks  himself  in  Clothes. 
Sliakspeare  says,  we  are  creatures  that  look  before  and  after : 
the  more  surprising  that  we  do  not  look  round  a little,  and 
see  what  is  passing  under  our  very  eyes. 

But  here,  as  in  so  many  other  cases,  Germany,  learned,  in- 
defatigable, deep-thinking  Germany  comes  to  our  aid.  It  is, 
after  all,  a blessing  that,  in  these  revolutionary  times  there 
should  be  one  country  where  abstract  Thought  can  still  take 
shelter  ; that  while  the  din  and  frenzy  of  Catholic  Emancipa- 
tions, and  Kotten  Boroughs,  and  Kevolts  of  Paris,  deafen 
every  French  and  every  English  ear,  the  German  can  stand 
peaceful  on  his  scientific  watch-tower ; and,  to  the  raging, 


PRELIMINARY. 


13 


struggling  multitude  here  and  elsewhere,  solemnly,  from  hour 
to  hour,  with  preparatory  blast  of  cowhorn,  emit  his  Horet 
ihr  Herren  and  lasset’s  Each  sagen  ; in  other  words,  tell  the 
Universe,  which  so  often  forgets  that  fact,  what  o’clock  it 
really  is.  Not  unfrequently  the  Germans  have  been  blamed 
for  an  unprofitable  diligence ; as  if  they  struck  into  devious 
courses,  where  nothing  was  to  be  had  but  the  toil  of  a rough 
journey  ; as  if,  forsaking  the  gold-mines  of  Finance,  and  that 
political  slaughter  of  fat  oxen  whereby  a man  himself  grows 
fat,  they  were  apt  to  run  goose-hunting  into  regions  of  bilber- 
ries and  crowberries,  and  be  swallowed  up  at  last  in  remote 
peat-bogs.  Of  that  unwise  science,  which,  as  our  Humorist 
expresses  it, 

‘ By  geometric  scale 
Doth  take  the  size  of  pots  of  ale  ; ’ 

still  more,  of  that  altogether  misdirected  industry,  which  is 
seen  vigorously  enough  thrashing  mere  straw,  there  can  noth- 
ing defensive  be  said.  In  so  far  as  the  Germans  are  charge- 
able with  such,  let  them  take  the  consequence.  Nevertheless 
be  it  remarked,  that  even  a Russian  steppe  has  tumuli  and 
gold  ornaments  ; also  many  a scene  that  looks  desert  and 
rock-bound  from  the  distance,  will  unfold  itself,  when  visited, 
into  rare  valleys.  Nay,  in  any  case,  would  Criticism  erect 
not  only  finger-posts  and  turnpikes,  but  spiked  gates  and 
impassible  barriers,  for  the  mind  of  man?  It  is  written, 
‘Many  shall  run  to  and  fro,  and  knowledge  shall  be  increased/ 
Surely  the  plain  rule  is,  Let  each  considerate  person  have  his 
way,  and  see  what  it  will  lead  to.  For  not  this  man  and  that 
man,  but  all  men  make  up  mankind,  and  their  united  tasks 
the  task  of  mankind.  How  often  have  we  seen  some  such 
adventurous,  and  perhaps  much-censured  wanderer  light  on 
some  outlying,  neglected,  yet  vitally  momentous  province ; 
the  hidden  treasures  of  which  he  first  discovered,  and  kept 
proclaiming  till  the  general  eye  and  effort  were  directed 
thither,  and  the  conquest  was  completed  ; — thereby,  in  these 
his  seemingly  so  aimless  rambles,  planting  new  standards, 
founding  new  habitable  colonies,  in  the  immeasurable  cir- 
cumambient realm  of  Nothingness  and  Night?  Wise  man 


14 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


was  lie  who  counselled  that  Speculation  should  have  free 
course,  and  look  fearlessly  towards  all  the  thirty-two  points 
of  the  compass,  whithersoever  and  howsoever  it  listed. 

Perhaps  it  is  proof  of  the  stinted  condition  in  which  pure 
Science,  especially  pure  moral  Science,  languishes  among  us 
English  ; and  how  our  mercantile  greatness,  and  invaluable 
Constitution,  impressing  a political  or  other  immediately  prac- 
tical tendency  on  all  English  culture  and  endeavour,  cramps 
the  free  flight  of  Thought, — that  this,  not  Philosophy  of 
Clothes,  but  recognition  even  that  we  have  no  such  Philoso- 
phy, stands  here  for  the  first  time  published  in  our  language. 
What  English  intellect  could  have  chosen  such  a topic,  or  by 
chance  stumbled  on  it  ? But  for  that  same  unshackled,  and 
even  sequestered  condition  of  the  German  Learned,  which 
permits  and  induces  them  to  fish  in  all  manner  of  waters, 
with  all  manner  of  nets,  it  seems  probable  enough,  this  ab- 
struse Inquiry  might,  in  spite  of  the  results  it  leads  to,  have 
continued  dormant  for  indefinite  periods.  The  Editor  of 
these  sheets,  though  otherwise  boasting  himself  a man  of 
confirmed  speculative  habits,  and  perhaps  discursive  enough,  is 
free  to  confess,  that  never,  till  these  last  months,  did  the 
above  very  plain  considerations,  on  our  total  want  of  a Philos- 
ophy of  Clothes,  occur  to  him  ; and  then,  by  quite  foreign 
suggestion.  By  the  arrival,  namely,  of  a new  Book  from  Pro- 
fessor Teufelsdrockh  of  Weissnichtwo ; treating  expressly  of 
this  subject ; and  in  a style  which,  whether  understood  or 
not,  could  not  even  by  the  blindest  be  overlooked.  In  the 
present  Editor’s  way  of  thought,  this  remarkable  Treatise, 
with  its  Doctrines,  whether  as  judicially  acceded  to,  or  judi- 
cially denied,  has  not  remained  without  effect. 

‘ Die  Kleider , ihr  Werden  und  Wirken  (Clothes,  their  Origin 
‘ and  Influence)  : von  Diog . Teufelsdrockh , J ".  U.  D.  etc . Still- 
‘ schweigen  und  Cognie'  Weissnichtwo,  1831. 

‘ Here,’  says  the  Weissnichtwo>sche  Anzeiger,  c comes  a Vol- 
* ume  of  that  extensive,  close-printed,  close-meditated  sort, 
‘ which  be  it  spoken  with  pride,  is  seen  only  in  Germany, 
‘ perhaps  only  in  Weissnichtwo.  Issuing  from  the  hitherto 
‘ irreproachable  Firm  of  Stillschweigen  and  Company,  with 


EDITORIAL  DIFFICULTIES. 


15 


c every  external  furtherance,  it  is  of  such  internal  quality  as 
‘ to  set  Neglect  at  defiance.’  * * * * ‘ A work,’  concludes 
the  well  nigh  enthusiastic  Eeviewer,  ‘ interesting  alike  to  the 

* antiquary,  the  historian,  and  the.  philosophic  thinker  ; a mas- 

* terpiece  of  boldness,  lynx-eyed  acuteness,  and  rugged  inde- 
‘ pendent  Germanism  and  Philanthropy  ( derben  Kerndeutsch - 
‘ heit  und  Menschenliebe) ; which  will  not,  assuredly,  pass 

* current  without  opposition  in  high  places  ; but  must  and 

* will  exalt  the  almost  new  name  of  Teufelsdrockh  to  the  first 
‘ rank  of  Philosophy,  in  our  German  Temple  of  Honour/ 

Mindful  of  old  friendship,  the  distinguished  Professor,  in 
this  the  first  blaze  of  his  fame,  which  however  does  not  dazzle 
him,  sends  hither  a Presentation-copy  of  his  Book ; with  com- 
pliments and  encomiums  which  modesty  forbids  the  present 
Editor  to  rehearse ; yet  without  indicated  wish  or  hope  of 
any  kind,  except  what  may  be  implied  in  the  concluding 
phrase  : Mochte  es  (this  remarkable  Treatise)  auch  im  Brittis - 
chen  Boden  gedeihen  ! 


CHAPTER  H. 

EDITORIAL  DIFFICULTIES. 

If  for  a speculative  man,  ‘ whose  seedfield,5  in  the  sublime 
words  of  the  Poet,  ‘ is  Time,’  no  conquest  is  important  but 
that  of  new  ideas,  then  might  the  arrival  of  Professor  Teufels- 
drockh s Book  be  marked  with  chalk  in  the  Editor’s  calendar. 
It  is  indeed  an  ‘ extensive  Volume,’  of  boundless,  almost  form- 
less contents,  a very  Sea  of  thought ; neither  calm  nor  clear, 
if  you  will ; yet  wherein  the  toughest  pearl-diver  may  dive 
to  his  utmost  depth,  and  return  not  only  with  sea-wreck  but 
wfith  true  orients. 

Directly  on  the  first  perusal,  almost  on  the  first  deliberate 
inspection,  it  became  apparent  that  here  a quite  new  Branch 
of  Philosophy,  leading  to  as  yet  undescried  ulterior  results, 
was  disclosed  ; farther,  what  seemed  scarcely  less  interesting, 
a quite  new  human  Individuality,  an  almost  unexampled  per- 
sonal character,  that,  namely,  of  Professor  Teufelsdrockh  the 
Discloser.  Of  both  which  novelties,  as  far  as  might  be  pos- 


16 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


sible,  we  resolved  to  master  the  significance.  But  as  man  is 
emphatically  a Proselytising  creature,  no  sooner  was  such 
mastery  even  fairly  attempted,  than  the  new  question  arose  : 
How  might  this  acquired  good  be  imparted  to  others,  per- 
haps in  equal  need  thereof  ; how  could  the  Philosophy  of 
Clothes,  and  the  Author  of  such  Philosophy,  be  brought 
home,  in  any  measure,  to  the  business  and  bosoms  of  our 
own  English  nation  ? For  if  new-got  gold  is  said  to  burn 
the  pockets  till  it  be  cast  forth  into  circulation,  much  more 
may  new  Truth. 

Here,  however,  difficulties  occurred.  The  first  thought 
naturally  was  to  publish  Article  after  Article  on  this  remark- 
able Volume,  in  such  widely-circulating  Critical  Journals  as 
the  Editor  might  stand  connected  with,  or  by  money  or  love 
procure  access  to.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  was  it  not  clear 
that  such  matter  as  must  here  be  revealed  and  treated  of 
might  endanger  the  Circulation  of  any  Journal  extant  ? If, 
indeed,  the  whole  parties  of  the  State  could  have  been  abol- 
ished, Whig,  Tory,  and  Radical,  embracing  in  discrepant 
union  ; and  the  whole  Journals  of  the  Nation  could  have  been 
jumbled  into  one  Journal,  and  the  Philosophy  of  Clothes 
poured  forth  in  incessant  torrents  therefrom,  the  attempt  had 
seemed  possible.  But,  alas,  vrhat  vehicle  of  that  sort  have 
we,  except  Fraser's  Magazine  ? A vehicle  all  strewed  (figura- 
tively speaking)  with  the  maddest  Waterloo-Crackers,  explod- 
ing distractively  and  destructively,  wheresoever  the  mystified 
passenger  stands  or  sits ; nay,  in  any  case,  understood  to  be, 
of  late  years,  a vehicle  full  to  overflowing,  and  inexorably 
shut ! Besides,  to  state  the  Philosophy  of  Clothes  without 
the  Philosopher,  the  ideas  of  Teufelsdrockh  without  some- 
thing of  his  personality,  was  it  not  to  insure  both  of  entire 
misapprehension?  Now  for  Biography,  had  it  been  otherwise 
admissible,  there  were  no  adequate  documents,  no  hope  of 
obtaining  such,  but  rather,  owing  to  circumstances,  a special 
despair.  Thus  did  the  Editor  see  himself,  for  the  while,  shut 
out  from  all  public  utterance  of  these  extraordinary  Doc- 
trines, and  constrained  to  revolve  them,  not  without  disquie- 
tude, in  the  dark  depths  of  his  own  mind. 


EDITORIAL  DIFFICULTIES. 


17 


So  had  it  lasted  for  some  months  ; and  now  the  Volume  on 
Clothes,  read  and  again  read,  was  in  several  points  becoming 
lucid  and  lucent ; the  personality  of  its  Author  more  and 
more  surprising,  but,  in  spite  of  all  that  memory  and  con- 
jecture could  do,  more  and  more  enigmatic  ; whereby  the  old 
disquietude  seemed  fast  settling  into  fixed  discontent, — when 
altogether  unexpectedly  arrives  a Letter  from  Herr  Hofrath 
Heuschrecke,  our  Professor’s  chief  friend  and  associate  in 
Weissniclitwo,  with  whom  we  had  not  previously  corre- 
sponded. The  Hofrath,  after  much  quite  extraneous  matter, 
began  dilating  largely  on  the  ‘ agitation  and  attention  ’ which 
the  Philosophy  of  Clothes  was  exciting  in  its  own  German 
Republic  of  Letters  ; on  the  deep  significance  and  tendency 
of  his  Friend’s  Volume  ; and  then,  at  length,  with  great  cir- 
cumlocution, hinted  at  the  practicability  of  conveying  ‘ some 
knowledge  of  it,  and  of  him,  to  England,  and  through  Eng- 
land to  the  distant  West : ’ a Work  on  Professor  Teufels- 
drockh  ‘ were  undoubtedly  welcome  to  the  Family,  the  Na - 
6 tional , or  any  other  of  those  patriotic  Libraries,  at  present 
£ the  glory  of  British  Literature  ; 5 might  work  revolutions  in 
Thought ; and  so  forth ; — in  conclusion,  intimating  not  ob- 
scurely, that  should  the  present  Editor  feel  disposed  to  un- 
dertake a Biography  of  Teufelsdrockh,  he,  Hofrath  Heusch- 
recke, had  it  in  his  power  to  furnish  the  requisite  Documents. 

As  in  some  chemical  mixture,  that  has  stood  long  evaporat- 
ing, but  would  not  crystallise,  instantly  when  the  wire  or 
other  fixed  substance  is  introduced,  crystallisation  commences, 
and  rapidly  proceeds  till  the  whole  is  finished,  so  was  it  with 
the  Editor’s  mind  and  this  offer  of  Heuschrecke’s.  Form  rose 
out  of  void  solution  and  discontinuity  ; like  united  itself  with 
like  in  definite  arrangement : and  soon  either  in  actual  vision 
and  possession,  or  in  fixed  reasonable  hope,  the  image  of  the 
whole  Enterprise  had  shaped  itself,  so  to  speak,  into  a solid 
mass.  Cautiously  yet  courageously,  through  the  twopenny 
post,  application  to  the  famed  redoubtable  Oliver  Yorke  was 
now  made  : an  interview,  interviews  with  that  singular  man 
have  taken  place  ; with  more  of  assurance  on  our  side,  with 
less  of  satire  (at  least  of  open  satire)  on  his,  than  we  antici* 
2 


13 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


pated  ; — for  the  rest,  with  such  issue  as  is  now  'visible.  As  to 
these  same  ‘ patriotic  Libraries / the  Hofrath’s  counsel  could 
only  be  viewed  with  silent  amazement ; but  with  his  offer  of 
Documents  we  joyfully  and  almost  instantaneously  closed. 
Thus,  too,  in  the  sure  expectation  of  these,  we  already  see 
our  task  begun  ; and  this  our  Sartor  Resartus,  which  is  prop- 
erly a ‘ Life  and  Opinions  of  Herr  Teufelsdrockh,5  hourly  ad- 
vancing. 

Of  our  fitness  for  the  Enterprise,  to  which  we  have  such 
title  and  vocation,  it  were  perhaps  uninteresting  to  say  more. 
Let  the  British  reader  study  and  enjoy,  in  simplicity  of  heart, 
what  is  here  presented  him,  and  with  whatever  metaphysical 
acumen,  and  talent  for  Meditation  he  is  possessed  of.  Let 
him  strive  to  keep  a free,  open  sense  ; cleared  from  the  mists 
of  Prejudice,  above  all  from  the  paralysis  of  Cant ; and  di- 
rected rather  to  the  Book  itself  than  to  the  Editor  of  the 
Book.  Who  or  what  such  Editor  may  be,  must  remain  con- 
jectural, and  even  insignificant : * it  is  a voice  publishing 
tidings  of  the  Philosophy  of  Clothes  ; undoubtedly  a Spirit 
addressing  Spirits  : whoso  hath  ears  let  him  hear. 

On  one  other  point  the  Editor  thinks  it  needful  to  give 
warning : namely,  that  he  is  animated  with  a true  though 
perhaps  a feeble  attachment  to  the  Institutions  of  our  Ances- 
tors ; and  minded  to  defend  these,  according  to  ability,  at  all 
hazards  ; nay,  it  was  partly  with  a view  to  such  defence  that  he 
engaged  in  this  undertaking.  To  stem,  or  if  that  be  impos- 
sible, profitably  to  divert  the  current  of  Innovation,  such  a 
Volume  as  Teufelsdrockh’s,  if  cunningly  planted  down,  were 
no  despicable  pile,  or  floodgate,  in  the  Logical  wear. 

For  the  rest,  be  it  no  wise  apprehended,  that  any  personal 
connexion  of  ours  with  Teufelsdrockh,  Heuschrecke,  or  this 
Philosophy  of  Clothes,  can  pervert  our  judgment,  or  sway  us 
to  extenuate  or  exaggerate.  Powerless,  we  venture  to  prom- 
ise, are  those  private  Compliments  themselves.  Grateful  they 
may  well  be ; as  generous  illusions  of  friendship  ; as  fair  me- 

* With  us  even  he  still  communicates  in  some  sort  of  mask,  or  muffler, 
and,  we  have  reason  to  think,  under  a feigned  name  I — O.  Y. 


REMINISCENCES. 


13 


mentos  of  bygone  unions,  of  those  nights  and  suppers  of  the 
Gods,  when  lapped  in  the  symphonies  and  harmonies  of 
Philosophic  Eloquence,  though  with  baser  accompaniments, 
the  present  Editor  revelled  in  that  feast  of  reason,  never  since 
vouchsafed  him  in  so  full  measure  ! But  what  then  ? Amicus 
Plato , magis  arnica  veritas  ; Teufelsdrockh  is  our  friend,  Truth 
is  our  divinity.  In  our  historical  and  critical  capacity,  we 
hope  we  are  strangers  to  all  the  world  ; have  feud  or  favour 
writh  no  one, — save  indeed  the  Devil,  with  whom,  as  with  the 
Prince  of  Lies  and  Darkness,  we  do  at  all  times  wage  inter- 
necine war.  This  assurance,  at  an  epoch  when  Puffery  and 
Quackery  have  reached  a height  unexampled  in  the  annals  of 
mankind,  and  even  English  Editors,  like  Chinese  Shopkeepers, 
must  write  on  their  door-lintels,  No  cheating  here , — we  thought 
it  good  to  premise. 


CHAPTER  III. 

REMINISCENCES. 

To  the  Author’s  private  circle  the  appearance  of  this  singu- 
lar Work  on  Clothes  must  have  occasioned  little  less  surprise 
than  it  has  to  the  rest  of  the  world.  For  ourselves,  at  least, 
few  things  have  been  more  unexpected.  Professor  Teufels- 
drockh, at  the  period  of  our  acquaintance  with  him,  seemed 
to  lead  a quite  still  and  self-contained  life  : a man  devoted  to 
the  higher  Philosophies,  indeed  ; yet  more  likely,  if  he  pub- 
lished at  all,  to  publish  a Refutation  of  Hegel  and  Bardili, 
both  of  whom,  strangely  enough,  he  included  under  a common 
ban;  than  to  descend,  as  he  has  here  done,  into  the  angry 
noisy  Forum,  with  an  Argument  that  cannot  but  exasperate 
and  divide.  Not,  that  we  can  remember,  was  the  Philosophy 
of  Clothes  once  touched  upon  between  us.  If  through  the 
high,  silent,  meditative  Transcendentalism  of  our  Friend  we 
detected  any  practical  tendency  whatever,  it  was  at  most  Po- 
litical, and  towards  a certain  prospective,  and  for  the  present 
quite  speculative,  Radicalism  ; as  indeed  some  correspondence, 
on  his  part,  with  Herr  Oken  of  Jena  was  now  and  then  sus- 


20 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


pected  ; though  his  special  contributions  to  the  Isis  could 
never  be  more  than  surmised  at.  But,  at  all  events,  nothing 
Moral,  still  less  any  thing  Didactico-Beligious,  was  looked  for 
from  him. 

Well  do  we  recollect  the  last  words  he  spoke  in  our  hear- 
ing ; which  indeed,  with  the  Night  they  were  uttered  in,  are 
to  be  for  ever  remembered.  Lifting  his  huge  tumbler  of 
Gukgulc*  and  for  a moment  lowering  his  tobacco-pipe,  he 
stood  up  in  full  coffee-house  (it  was  Zam  Grilnen  Game,  the 
largest  in  Weissnichtwo,  where  all  the  Virtuosity,  and  nearly 
all  the  Intellect,  of  the  place  assembled  of  an  evening) ; and 
there,  with  low,  soul  stirring  tone,  and  the  look  truly  of  an 
angel,  though  whether  of  a white  or  of  a black  one  might  be  du- 
bious, proposed  this  toast : Die  Sache  der  Armen  in  Gottes  und 
Teufels  Namen  (The  Cause  of  the  Poor  in  Heaven’s  name  and 

’s)  ! One  full  shout,  breaking  the  leaden  silence  ; then  a 

gurgle  of  innumerable  emptying  bumpers,  again  followed  by 
universal  cheering,  returned  him  loud  acclaim.  It  was  the 
finale  of  the  night : resuming  their  pipes ; in  the  highest  en- 
thusiasm, amid  volumes  of  tobacco-smoke  ; triumphant,  cloud- 
capt  without  and  within,  the  assembly  broke  up,  each  to  his 
thoughtful  pillow.  Bleibt  dock  ein  echter  Spass-und-  Galgen- 
vogel,  said  several  ; meaning  thereby  that,  one  day,  he  would 
probably  be  hanged  for  his  democratic  sentiments.  Wo  steckt 
der  Schalk  ? added  they,  looking  round  : but  Teufelsdrockh 
had  retired  by  private  alleys,  and  the  Compiler  of  these  pages 
beheld  him  no  more. 

In  such  scenes  has  it  been  our  lot  to  live  with  this  Philoso- 
pher, such  estimate  to  form  of  his  purposes  and  powers.  And 
yet,  thou  brave  Teufelsdrockh,  who  could  tell  what  lurked  in 
thee  ? Under  those  thick  locks  of  thine,  so  long  and  lank, 
overlapping  roof -wise  the  gravest  face  we  ever  in  this  world 
saw,  there  dwelt  a most  busy  brain.  In  thy  eyes  too,  deep 
under  their  shaggy  brows,  and  looking  out  so  still  and 
dreamy,  have  we  not  noticed  gleams  of  an  ethereal  or  else  a 
diabolic  fire,  and  half  fancied  that  their  stillness  was  but 
the  rest  of  infinite  motion,  the  sleep  of  a spinning  top  ? Thy 
* Gukguk  is  unhappily  only  an  academical — beer. 


REMINISCENCES . 


21 


little  figure,  there  as,  in  loose,  ill-brushed,  threadbare  habili- 
ments, thou  sattest,  amid  litter  and  lumber,  whole  days,  to 
‘think  and  smoke  tobacco/  held  in  it  a mighty  heart.  The 
secrets  of  man’s  Life  were  laid  open  to  thee  ; thou  sawest  into 
the  mystery  of  the  Universe,  farther  than  another  ; thou  hadst 
in  petto  thy  remarkable  Volume  on  Clothes.  Nay,  was  there 
not  in  that  clear  logically-founded  Transcendentalism  of 
thine  ; still  more,  in  thy  meek,  silent,  deepseated  Sansculot- 
tism,  combined  with  a true  princely  Courtesy  of  inward  na- 
ture, the  visible  rudiments  of  such  speculation  ? But  great 
men  are  too  often  unknown,  or  what  is  worse,  misknown. 
Already,  when  we  dreamed  not  of  it,  the  warp  of  thy  remark- 
able Volume  lay  on  the  loom  ; and  silently,  mysterious  shut- 
tles were  putting  in  the  woof ! 

How  the  Hofrath  Heuschrecke  is  to  furnish  biographical 
data  in  this  case,  may  be  a curious  question  ; the  answer  of 
which,  however,  is  happily  not  our  concern,  but  his.  To  us 
it  appeared,  after  repeated  trial,  that  in  Weissniclitwo,  from 
the  archives  or  memories  of  the  best-informed  classes,  no 
Biography  of  Teufelsdrockh  was  to  be  gathered ; not  so  much 
as  a false  one.  He  was  a Stranger  there,  wafted  thither  by 
what  is  called  the  course  of  circumstances  ; concerning  whose 
parentage,  birth-place,  prospects,  or  pursuits,  Curiosity  had 
indeed  made  inquiries,  but  satisfied  herself  with  the  most  in- 
distinct replies.  For  himself,  he  was  a man  so  still  and  alto- 
gether unparticipating,  that  to  question  him  even  afar  off  on 
such  particulars  was  a thing  of  more  than  usual  delicacy  : be- 
sides, in  his  sly  way,  he  had  ever  some  quaint  turn,  not  without 
its  satirical  edge,  wherewith  to  divert  such  intrusions, and  deter 
you  from  the  like.  Wits  spoke  of  him  secretly  as  if  he  were 
a kind  of  Melchizedek,  without  father  or  mother  of  any  kind  ; 
sometimes,  with  reference  to  his  great  historic  and  statistic 
knowledge,  and  the  vivid  way  he  had  of  expressing  himself 
like  an  eye-witness  of  distant  transactions  and  scenes,  they 
called  him  the  Ewige  Jude , Everlasting,  or  as  we  say,  Wan- 
dering Jew, 

To  the  most,  indeed,  he  had  become  not  so  much  a Man  as 
a Thing  ; which  Thing  doubtless  they  were  accustomed  to 


22 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


see,  and  with  satisfaction  ; but  no  more  thought  of  accounting 
for  than  for  the  fabrication  of  their  daily  Allgemeine  Zeitung, 
or  the  domestic  habits  of  the  Sun.  Both  were  there  and  wel- 
come ; the  world  enjoyed  what  good  was  in  them,  and  thought 
no  more  of  the  matter.  The  man  Teufelsdrockli  passed  and 
repassed,  in  his  little  circle,  as  one  of  those  originals  and  non- 
descripts, more  frequent  in  German  Universities  than  else- 
where ; of  whom,  though  you  see  them  alive,  and  feel  cer- 
tain enough  that  they  must  have  a History,  no  History  seems 
to  be  discoverable  ; or  only  such  as  men  give  of  mountain 
rocks  and  antediluvian  ruins : That  they  have  been  created 
by  unknown  agencies,  are  in  a state  of  gradual  decay,  and 
for  the  present  reflect  light  and  resist  pressure  ; that  is,  are 
visible  and  tangible  objects  in  this  phantasm  world,  where  so 
much  other  mystery  is. 

It  was  to  be  remarked  that  though,  by  title  and  diploma, 
Professor  der  Allerley-Wissenschaft , or  as  we  should  say  in 
English,  c Professor  of  Things  in  General/ he  had  never  de- 
livered any  Course  ; perhaps  never  been  incited  thereto  by 
any  public  furtherance  or  requisition.  To  all  appearance,  the 
enlightened  Government  of  Weissnichtwo,  in  founding  their 
New  University,  imagined  they  had  done  enough,  if  ‘ in  times 
like  ours/  as  the  half-official  Program  expressed  it,  ‘ when  all 
‘ things  are,  rapidly  or  slowly,  resolving  themselves  into 
‘ Chaos,  a Professorship  of  this  kind  had  been  established  ; 
‘ whereby,  as  occasion  called,  the  task  of  bodying  somewhat 
c forth  again  from  such  Chaos  might  be,  even  slightly,  facili- 
‘ tated.’  That  actual  Lectures  should  be  held,  and  Public 
Classes  for  the  * Science  of  Things  in  General/  they  doubt- 
less considered  premature  ; on  which  ground  too  they  had 
only  established  the  Professorship,  nowise  endowed  it;  so  that 
Teufelsdrockh,  c recommended  by  the  highest  Names/  had 
been  promoted  thereby  to  a Name  merely. 

Great,  among  the  more  enlightened  classes,  was  the  admira- 
tion of  this  new  Professorship  : how  an  enlightened  Govern- 
ment had  seen  into  the  Want  of  the  Age  (Ze itbedurfn iss) ; how 
at  length,  instead  of  Denial  and  Destruction,  we  were  to  have 
a science  of  Affirmation  and  Reconstruction  ; and  Germany 


REMINISCENCES. 


23 


and  Weissnichtwo  were  where  they  should  be,  in  the  van- 
guard of  the  world.  Considerable  also  was  the  wonder  at  the 
new  Professor,  dropt  opportunely  enough  into  the  nascent 
University  ; so  able  to  lecture,  should  occasion  call ; so  ready 
to  hold  his  peace  for  indefinite  periods,  should  an  enlightened 
Government  consider  that  occasion  did  not  call.  But  such 
admiration  and  such  wonder,  being  followed  by  no  act  to  keep 
them  living,  could  last  only  nine  days  ; and  long  before  our 
visit  to  that  scene,  had  quite  died  away.  The  more  cunning 
heads  thought  it  was  all  an  expiring  clutch  at  popularity,  on 
the  part  of  a Minister,  whom  domestic  embarrassments,  court 
intrigues,  old  age,  and  dropsy  soon  afterwards  finally  drove 
from  the  helm. 

As  for  Teufelsdrockh,  except  by  his  nightly  appearances  at 
the  Grunen  G arise,  Weissnichtwo  saw  little  of  him,  felt  little 
of  him.  Here,  over  his  tumbler  of  Gukguk,  he  sat  reading 
Journals  ; sometimes  contemplatively  looking  into  the  clouds 
of  his  tobacco-pipe,  without  other  visible  employment : always, 
from  his  mild  ways,  an  agreeable  phenomenon  there  ; more 
especially  when  he  opened  his  lips  for  speech  ; on  which  oc- 
casions the  whole  Coffee-house  would  hush  itself  into  silence, 
as  if  sure  to  hear  something  noteworthy.  Nay,  perhaps  to 
hear  a whole  series  and  river  of  the  most  memorable  utter- 
ances ; such  as,  when  once  thawed,  he  would  for  hours  indulge 
in,  with  fit  audience  : and  the  more  memorable,  as  issuing 
from  a head  apparently  not  more  interested  in  them,  not  more 
conscious  of  them,  than  is  the  sculptured  stone  head  of  some 
public  Fountain,  which  through  its  brass  mouth-tube  emits 
water  to  the  worthy  and  the  unworthy  ; careless  whether  it 
be  for  cooking  victuals  or  quenching  conflagrations  ; indeed 
maintains  the  same  earnest  assiduous  look,  whether  any  water 
be  flowing  or  not. 

To  the  Editor  of  these  sheets,  as  to  a young  enthusiastic 
Englishman,  however  unworthy,  Teufelsdrockh  opened  him- 
self perhaps  more  than  to  the  most.  Pity  only  that  we  could 
not  then  half  guess  his  importance,  and  scrutinise  him  with 
due  power  of  vision ! We  enjoyed,  what  not  three  men  in 
Weissnichtwo  could  boast  of,  a certain  degree  of  access  to  the 


24 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


Professor’s  private  domicile.  It  was  tlie  attic  floor  of  the  high* 
est  house  in  the  Wahngasse  ; and  might  truly  be  called  the 
pinnacle  of  Weissnichtwo,  for  it  rose  sheer  up  above  the  con- 
tiguous roofs,  themselves  rising  from  elevated  ground.  More- 
over, with  its  windows,  it  looked  towards  all  the  four  Orte , or 
as  the  Scotch  say,  and  we  ought  to  say,  Airts : the  Sitting- 
room  itself,  commanded  three;  another  came  to  view  in  the 
Schlafgemach  (Bed-room)  at  the  opposite  end  ; to  say  nothing 
of  the  Kitchen,  which  offered  two,  as  it  were  duplicates , and 
shewing  nothing  new.  So  that  it  was  in  fact  the  speculum  or 
watch-tower  of  Teufelsdrockh  ; wherefrom,  sitting  at  ease,  he 
might  see  the  whole  life-circulation  of  that  considerable  City  ; 
the  streets  and  lanes  of  which,  with  all  their  doing  and  driv- 
ing ( Thun  und  Treiben),  were  for  the  most  part  visible  there. 

“I  look  down  into  all  that  wasp-nest  or  bee-hive,”  have  we 
heard  him  say,  “and  witness  their  wax-laying  and  lioney-mak- 
“ ing,  and  poison-brewing,  and  choking  by  sulphur.  From 
“ the  Palace  esplanade,  where  music  plays  while  Serene  High- 
“ ness  is  pleased  to  eat  his  victuals,  down  the  low  lane,  where 
“ in  her  door-sill  the  aged  widow,  knitting  for  a thin  liveli- 
“ hood,  sits  to  feel  the  afternoon  sun,  I see  it  all ; for,  except 
“the  Schlosskirche  weathercock,  no  biped  stands  so  high. 
“ Couriers  arrive  bestrapped  and  bebooted,  bearing  Joy  and 
“ Sorrow  bagged  up  in  pouches  of  leather ; there,  topladen, 
“ and  with  four  swift  horses,  rolls  in  the  country  Baron  and 
“ his  household  ; here,  on  timber  leg,  the  lamed  Soldier  hops 
“ painfully  along,  begging  alms : a thousand  carriages,  and 
“ wains,  and  cars,  come  tumbling  in  with  Food,  with  young 
“Busticity,  and  other  Raw  Produce,  inanimate  or  animate, 
“ and  go  tumbling  out  again  with  Produce  manufactured. 
“ That  living  flood,  pouring  through  these  streets,  of  all  quali- 
fies and  ages,  knowest  thou  whence  it  is  coming,  whither  it 
“ is  going?  A us  der  EwigJceit , zu  der  Ewigkeit  hin : From  Eter- 
“ nity,  onwards  to  Eternity  ! These  are  Apparitions  : what 
“ else  ? Are  they  not  Souls  rendered  visible  ; in  Bodies,  that 
“took  shape  and  will  lose  it,  melting  into  air?  Their  solid 
“ pavement  is  a Picture  of  the  Sense  ; they  walk  on  the  bosom 
“ of  Nothing,  blank  Time  is  behind  them  and  before  them. 


REMINISCENCES. 


25 


“ Or  fanciest  thou,  the  red  and  yellow  Clothes-screen  yonder, 
“ with  spurs  on  its  heels,  and  feather  in  its  crown,  is  but  of 
“ To-day,  without  a Yesterday  or  a To-morrow  ; and  had  not 
“ rather  its  Ancestor  alive  when  Hengst  and  Horsa  overran 
“ thy  Island  ? Friend,  thou  seest  here  a living  link  in  that 
“ Tissue  of  History,  which  inweaves  all  Being  : watch  well,  or 
“it  will  be  past  thee,  and  seen  no  more.” 

“ Ach,  mein  Lieber ! ” said  he  once,  at  midnight,  when  he 
had  returned  from  the  Coffee-house  in  rather  earnest  talk,  “ it 
“it  a true  sublimity  to  dwell  here/  These  fringes  of  lamp- 
“ light,  struggling  up  through  smoke  and  thousand-fold  ex- 
halation, some  fathoms  into  the  ancient  reign  of  Night,  what 
“ thinks  Bootes  of  them,  as  he  leads  his  Hunting  Dogs  over  the 
“ Zenith,  in  their  leash  of  sidereal  fire  ? That  stifled  hum  of 
“ Midnight,  when  Traffic  has  lain  down  to  ( rest ; and  the 
“ chariot- wheels  of  Vanity,  still  rolling  here  and  there  through 
“ distant  streets,  are  bearing  her  to  Hails  roofed  in,  and  lighted 
“to  the  due  pitch  for  her  ; and  only  Vice  and  Misery,  to  prowl 
“ or  to  moan  like  night  birds,  are  abroad  ; that  hum,  I say,  like 
“the  stertorous,  unquiet  slumber  of  sick  Life,  is  heard  in 
“ Heaven  ! Oh,  under  that  hideous  coverlet  of  vapours,  and 
“ putrefactions,  and  unimaginable  gases,  what  a Fermenting- 
“ vat  lies  simmering  and  hid  ! The  joyful  and  the  sorrowful 
“ are  there  ; men  are  dying  there,  men  are  being  born,  men  are 
“ praying, — on  the  other  side  of  a brick  partition,  men  are  curs- 
“ ing ; and  around  them  all  is  the  vast,  void  Night.  The  proud 
“ Grandee  still  lingers  in  his  perfumed  saloons,  or  reposes 
“ within  damask  curtains  ; "Wretchedness  cowers  into  truckle- 
“ beds,  or  shivers  hunger-stricken  into  its  lair  of  straw  : in  ob- 
“scure  cellars,  Rouje-ei-Noir  languidly  emits  its  voice-of-des- 
“ tiny  to  haggard  hungry  Villains  ; while  Councillors  of  State 
“ sit  plotting,  and  playing  their  high  chess-game,  whereof  the 
“ pawns  are  Men.  The  Lover  whispers  his  mistress  that  the 
“ coach  is  ready  ; and  she,  full  of  hope  and  fear  glides  down, 
“ to  fly  with  him  over  the  borders : the  Thief,  still  more  silent- 
“lv,  sets  to  his  picklocks  and  crowbars,  or  lurks  in  wait  till 
“ the  watchmen  first  snore  in  their  boxes.  Gay  mansions, 
“ with  supper-rooms,  and  dancing-rooms,  are  full  of  light  and 


26 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


“ music  and  high-swelling  hearts  ; but  in  the  Condemned 
“ Cells,  the  pulse  of  life  beats  tremulous  and  faint,  and  blood- 
“ shot  eyes  look  out  through  the  darkness,  which  is  around  and 
“ within,  for  the  light  of  a stern  last  morning.  Six  men  are 
“ to  be  hanged  on  the  morrow  : comes  no  hammering  from 
“the  Rabenstein? — their  gallows  must  even  now  be  o’building. 
“ Upwards  of  five  hundred  thousand  two-legged  animals 
“ without  feathers  lie  round  us,  in  horizontal  position  ; their 
“heads  all  in  nightcaps,  and  full  of  the  foolishest  dreams. 
“ Riot  cries  aloud,  and  staggers  and  swaggers  in  his  rank  dens 
“ of  shame  ; and  the  Mother,  with  streaming  hair,  kneels  over 
“ her  pallid  dying  infant,  whose  cracked  lips  only  her  tears  now 
“ moisten. — All  these  heaped  and  huddled  together,  with 
“nothing  but  a little  carpentry  and  masonry  between  them ; 
“ — crammed  in,  like  salted  fish,  in  their  barrel ; — or  welter* 
“ ing,  shall  I say,  like  an  Egyptian  pitcher  of  tamed  Yipers, 
“ each  struggling  to  get  its  head  above  the  other : such  work 
“ goes  on  under  that  smoke-counterpane  ! — But  I,  mein  Wer- 
“ ther,  sit  above  it  all ; I am  alone  with  the  Stars.” 

We  looked  in  his  face  to  see  whether,  in  the  utterance  of 
such  extraordinary  Night-thoughts,  no  feeling  might  be  traced 
there  ; but  with  the  light  we  had,  which  indeed  was  only  a 
single  tallow-light,  and  far  enough  from  the  window,  nothing 
save  that  old  calmness  and  fixedness  was  visible. 

These  were  the  Professor’s  talking  seasons  : most  commonly 
he  spoke  in  mere  monosyllables,  or  sat  altogether  silent  and 
smoked  : while  the  visitor  had  liberty  either  to  say  what  he 
listed,  receiving  for  answer  an  occasional  grunt ; or  to  look 
round  for  a space,  and  then  take  himself  away.  It  was  a 
strange  apartment ; full  of  books  and  tattered  papers,  and 
miscellaneous  shreds  of  all  conceivable  substances,  4 united  in 
a common  element  of  dust.’  Books  lay  on  tables,  and  below 
tables  ; here  fluttered  a sheet  of  manuscript,  there  a torn  hand- 
kerchief, or  nightcap  hastily  thrown  aside ; ink-bottles  alter- 
nated with  bread-crusts,  coffee-pots,  tobacco-boxes,  Periodical 
Literature,  and  Blucher  Boots.  Old  Leischen  (Lisekin,  ’Liza), 
who  was  his  bed-maker  and  stove-lighter,  his  washer  and 
wringer,  cook,  errand-maid,  and  general  lion’s-provider,  and 


REMINISCENCES. 


27 


for  the  rest  a very  orderly  creature,  had  no  sovereign  author- 
ity in  this  last  citadel  of  Teufelsdrockh  ; only  some  once  in 
the  month,  she  half-forcibly  made  her  way  thither,  with  broom 
and  duster,  and  (Teufelsdrockh  hastily  saving  his  manuscripts) 
effected  a partial  clearance,  a jail-delivery  of  such  lumber  as 
was  not  Literary.  These  were  her  Erdbebungen  (Earthquakes), 
which  Teufelsdrockh  dreaded  worse  than  the  pestilence  ; never- 
theless, to  such  length  he  had  been  forced  to  comply.  Glad 
would  he  have  been  to  sit  here  philosophising  for  ever,  or  till 
the  litter,  by  accumulation,  drove  him  out  of  doors : but  Leis- 
chen  was  his  right-arm,  and  spoon,  and  necessary  of  life,  and 
would  not  be  flatly  gainsayed.  We  can  still  remember  the 
ancient  woman  : so  silent  that  some  thought  her  dumb  ; deaf 
also  you  would  often  have  supposed  her  ; for  Teufelsdrockh 
and  Teufelsdrockh  only  would  she  serve  or  give  heed  to  ; and 
with  him  she  seemed  to  communicate  chiefly  by  signs  ; if  it 
were  not  rather  by  some  secret  divination  that  she  guessed  all 
his  wants,  and  supplied  them.  Assiduous  old  dame  ! she 
scoured,  and  sorted,  and  swept,  in  her  kitchen,  with  the  least 
possible  violence  to  the  ear  ; yet  all  was  tight  and  right  there  : 
hot  and  black  came  the  coffee  ever  at  the  due  moment ; and 
the  speechless  Leischen  herself  looked  out  on  you,  from  under 
her  clean  white  coif  with  its  lappets,  through  her  clean  with- 
ered face  and  wrinkles,  with  a look  of  helpful  intelligence, 
almost  of  benevolence. 

Few  strangers,  as  above  hinted,  had  admittance  hither : the 
only  one  we  ever  saw  there,  ourselves  excepted,  was  the  Hof- 
rath  Heuschrecke,  already  known,  by  name  and  expectation, 
to  the  readers  of  these  pages.  To  us,  at  that  period,  Herr 
Heuschrecke  seemed  one  of  those  purse-mouthed,  crane- 
necked, clean-brushed  pacific  individuals,  perhaps  sufficiently 
distinguished  in  society  by  this  fact,  that,  in  dry  weather  or 
in  wet,  cthey  never  appear  without  their  umbrella.’  Had  we 
not  known  with  what  ‘ little  wisdom  ’ the  world  is  governed  ; 
and  how,  in  Germany  as  elsewhere,  the  ninety  and  nine  Pub- 
lic Men  can  for  most  part  be  but  mute  train-bearers  to  the 
hundredth,  perhaps  but  stalking-horses  and  willing  or  unwil- 
ling dupes, — it  might  have  seemed  wonderful  how  Herr 


28 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


Heuschrecke  should  be  named  a Rath,  or  Councillor,  and 
Counsellor,  even  in  WTeissnichtwo.  What  counsel  to  any  man, 
or  to  any  woman,  could  this  particular  Hofrath  give  ; in 
whose  loose,  zigzag  figure  ; in  whose  thin  visage,  as  it  went 
jerking  to  and  fro,  in  minute  incessant  fluctuation, — you 
traced  rather  confusion  worse  confounded  ; at  most,  Timidity 
and  physical  Cold?  Some  indeed  said  withal,  he  was  ‘the 
very  Spirit  of  Love  embodied ; ’ blue  earnest  eyes,  full  of  sad- 
ness and  kindness ; purse  ever  open,  and  so  forth  ; the  whole 
of  which,  we  shall  now  hope  for  many  reasons,  was  not  quite 
groundless.  Nevertheless  friend  Teufelsdrockh’s  outline, 
who  indeed  handled  the  burin  like  few  in  these  cases,  was 
probably  the  best : Er  hat  Gemtith  und  Geist,  hat  wenigstens 
gehabt,  doch  ohne  Organ , ohne  Schichmls-gumt ; ist  gegehwiir- 
tig  aber  halb-zerruttet , halb-erstarrt , “ He  has  heart  and  talent, 
“ at  least  has  had  such,  yet  without  fit  mode  of  utterance,  or 
4 ‘favour  of  Fortune;  and  so  is  now  half-cracked,  half-con- 
cealed.”— What  the  Hofrath  shall  think  of  this  when  he  sees 
it,  readers  may  wonder  : we,  safe  in  the  stronghold  of  His- 
torical Fidelity,  are  careless. 

The  main  point,  doubtless,  for  us  all,  is  his  love  of  Teufels- 
drockh,  which  indeed  was  also  by  far  the  most  decisive  feat- 
ure of  Heuschrecke  himself.  We  are  enabled  to  assert  that 
he  hung  on  the  Professor  with  the  fondness  of  a Boswell  for 
his  Johnson.  And  perhaps  with  the  like  return  ; for  Teufels- 
drockh  treated  his  gaunt  admirer  with  little  outward  regard, 
as  some  half-rational  or  altogether  irrational  friend,  and  at 
best  loved  him  out  of  gratitude  and  by  habit.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  was  curious  to  observe  with  what  reverent  kindness, 
and  a sort  of  fatherly  protection,  our  Hofrath,  being  the 
elder,  richer,  and  as  he  fondly  imagined  far  more  practically 
influential  of  the  two,  looked  and  tended  on  his  little  Sage, 
whom  he  seemed  to  consider  as  a living  oracle.  Let  but 
Teufelsdrockh  open  his  mouth,  Heuschrecke’s  also  unpuckered 
itself  into  a free  doorway,  besides  his  being  all  eye  anti  all 
ear,  so  that  nothing  might  be  lost : and  then,  at  every  pause 
in  the  harangue,  he  gurgled  out  his  pursy  chuckle  of  a 
cough-laugh  (for  the  machinery  of  laughter  took  some  time 


REMINISCENCES. 


29 


to  get  in  motion,  and  seemed  crank  and  slack),  or  else  hia 
twanging  nasal  Bravo  ! Das  glaub ’ ich  ; in  either  case,  by  wray 
of  heartiest  approval.  In  short,  if  Teufelsdrockh  was  Dalai- 
Lama,  of  which,  except  perhaps  in  his  self-seclusion,  and 
god-like  Indifference,  there  was  no  symptom,  then  might 
Heusclirecke  pass  for  his  chief  Talapoin,  to  whom  no  dough- 
pill  he  could  knead  and  publish  was  other  than  medicinal  and 
sacred. 

In  such  environment,  social,  domestic,  and  physical,  did  Teu- 
felsdrockh, at  the  time  of  our  acquaintance,  and  most  likely 
does  he  still,  live  and  meditate.  Here,  perched  up  in  his  high 
Wahngasse  watch-tower,  and  often,  in  solitude,  outwatching 
the  Bear,  it  wras  that  the  indomitable  Inquirer  fought  all  his 
battles  with  Dulness  and  Darkness  ; here,  in  all  probability, 
that  he  wrote  this  surprising  Volume  on  Clothes . Additional 
particulars : of  his  age,  which  was  of  that  standing  middle 
sort  you  could*  only  guess  at ; of  his  wide  surtout ; the  colour 
of  his  trousers,  fashion  of  his  broad-brimmed  steeple-hat,  and 
so  forth,  we  might  report,  but  do  not.  The  Wisest  truly  is, 
in  these  times,  the  Greatest ; so  that  an  enlightened  curiosity, 
leaving  Kings  and  such  like  to  rest  very  much  on  their  own 
basis,  turns  more  and  more  to  the  Philosophic  Class : never- 
theless, what  reader  expects  that,  with  all  our  writing  and 
reporting  Teufelsdrockh  could  be  brought  home  to  him,  till 
once  the  Documents  arrive  ? His  Life,  Fortunes,  and  Bodily 
Presence,  are  as  yet  hidden  from  us,  or  matter  only  of  faint 
conjecture.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  does  not  his  Soul  he  en- 
closed in  this  remarkable  Volume,  much  more  truly  than 
Pedro  Garcia’s  did  in  the  buried  Bag  of  Doubloons?  To 
the  soul  of  Diogenes  Teufelsdrockh,  to  his  opinions,  namely, 
on  the  ‘ Origin  and  Influence  of  Clothes,’  we  for  the  present 
gladly  return. 


30 


SARTOR  RESARTU8. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

CHARACTERISTICS. 

It  were  a piece  of  vain  flattery  to  pretend  that  this  Work 
on  Clothes  entirely  contents  us  ; that  it  is  not,  like  all  works 
of  Genius,  like  the  very  Sun,  which,  though  the  highest  pub- 
lished Creation,  or  work  of  Genius,  has  nevertheless  black 
spots  and  troubled  nebulosities  amid  its  effulgence, — a mix- 
ture of  insight,  inspiration,  with  dulness,  double-vision,  and 
even  utter  blindness. 

Without  committing  ourselves  to  those  enthusiastic  praises 
and  prophesying  of  the  Weissnichtwo’sche  Anzeiger , we  admit- 
ted that  the  Book  had  in  a high  degree  excited  us  to  self- 
activity, which  is  the  best  effect  of  any  book  ; that  it  had  even 
operated  changes  in  our  way  of  thought ; nay,  that  it  prom- 
ised to  prove,  as  it  were,  the  opening  of  a new  mine-shaft, 
wherein  the  whole  world  of  Speculation  might  henceforth 
dig  to  unknown  depths.  More  specially  it  may  now  be  de- 
clared that  Professor  Teufelsdrockh’s  acquirements,  patience 
of  research,  philosophic  and  even  poetic  vigour,  are  here 
made  indisputably  manifest ; and  unhappily  no  less  his  pro- 
lixity and  tortuosity  and  manifold  ineptitude  ; that,  on  the 
whole,  as  in  opening  new  mine-shafts  is  not  unreasonable, 
there  is  much  rubbish  in  his  Book,  though  likewise  specimens 
of  almost  invaluable  ore.  A paramount  popularity  in  Eng- 
land we  cannot  promise  him.  Apart  from  the  choice  of  such 
a topic  as  Clothes,  too  often  the  manner  of  treating  it  be- 
tokens in  the  Author  a rusticity  and  academic  seclusion,  un- 
blamable, indeed  inevitable  in  a German,  but  fatal  to  his  sue* 
cess  with  our  public. 

Of  good  society  Teufelsdrockh  appears  to  have  seen  little, 
or  has  mostly  forgotten  what  he  saw.  He  speaks  out  with  a 
strange  plainness  ; calls  many  things  by  their  mere  dictionaiy- 
names.  To  him  the  Upholsterer  is  no  Pontiff,  neither  is  any 
Drawing  room  a Temple,  were  it  never  so  begilt  and  over- 
hung : ‘ a whole  immensity  of  Brussels  carpets,  and  pier- 


CHAR  A CT ERISTICS. 


31 


€ glasses,  and  or-moulu,’  as  lie  himself  expresses  it,  ‘cannot 
‘ hide  from  me  that  such  Drawing  room  is  simply  a section  of 
‘ Infinite  Space,  where  so  many  God-created  Souls  do  for  the 
‘ time  meet  together.'  To  Teufelsdrockh  the  highest  Duchess  is 
respectable,  is  venerable  ; but  nowise  for  her  pearl  bracelets, 
and  Malines  laces  : in  his  eyes,  the  star  of  a Lord  is  little  less 
and  little  more  than  the  broad  button  of  Birmingham  spelter 
in  a Clown’s  smock  ; ‘ each  is  an  implement,’  he  says,  6 in  its 
‘ kind  ; a tag  for  hooking -tog ether  ; and,  for  the  rest,  was  dug 
"from  the  earth,  and  hammered  on  a stithy  before  smith’s 
‘ fingers.’  Thus  does  the  Professor  look  in  men’s  faces  with  a 
strange  impartiality,  a strange  scientific  freedom  ; like  a man 
unversed  in  the  higher  circles,  like  a man  ^dropped  thither  from 
the  Moon.  Rightly  considered,  it  is  in  this  peculiarity,  run- 
ning through  his  whole  system  of  thought,  that  all  these 
short-comings,  over-shootings,  and  multiform  perversities, 
take  rise  : if  indeed  they  have  not  a second  source,  also  nat- 
ural enough,  in  his  Transcendental  Philosophies,  and  humour 
of  looking  at  all  Matter  and  Material  things  as  Spirit ; where- 
by truly  his  case  were  but  the  more  hopeless,  the  more  la- 
mentable. 

To  the  Thinkers  of  this  nation,  however,  of  which  class  it 
is  firmly  believed  there  are  individuals  yet  extant,  we  can 
safely  recommend  the  Work  : nay,  who  knows  but  among  the 
fashionable  ranks  too,  if  it  be  true,  as  Teufelsdrockh  main- 
tains, that  £ within  the  most  starched  cravat  there  passes  a 
‘ windpipe  and  weasand,  and  under  the  thickliest  embroidered 
4 waistcoat  beats  a heart,’ — the  force  of  that  rapt  earnestness 
may  be  felt,  and  here  and  there  an  arrow  of  the  soul  pierce 
through.  In  our  wild  Seer,  shaggy,  unkempt,  like  a Baptist 
living  on  locusts  and  wild  honey,  there  is  an  untutored  energy, 
a silent,  as  it  were  unconscious,  strength,  which,  except  in 
the  higher  walks  of  Literature,  must  be  rare.  Many  a deep 
glance,  and  often  with  unspeakable  precision,  has  he  cast  into 
mysterious  Nature,  and  the  still  more  mysterious  Life  of 
Man.  Wonderful  it  is  with  what  cutting  words,  now  and 
then,  he  severs  asunder  the  confusion  ; sheers  down,  were  it 
furlongs  deep,  into  the  true  centre  of  the  matter  ; and  there 


32 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


not  only  hits  the  nail  on  the  head,  but  with  crushing  force 
smites  it  home,  and  buries  it. — On  the  other  hand,  let  us  be 
free  to  admit,  he  is  the  most  unequal  writer  breathing. 
Often  after  some  such  feat,  he  will  play  truant  for  long  pages, 
and  go  dawdling  and  dreaming,  and  mumbling  and  maunder- 
ing the  merest  commonplaces,  as  if  he  were  asleep  with  eyes 
open,  which  indeed  he  is. 

Of  his  boundless  Learning,  and  how  all  reading  and  litera- 
ture in  most  known  tongues,  from  Sanchoniatkon  to  Dr.  Lin- 
gard,  from  your  Oriental  Shasters,  and  Talmuds,  and  Korans, 
with  Cassini’s  Siamese  Tables,  and  Laplace’s  Mecanique  Celeste 
down  to  Robinson  Crusoe  and  the  Belfast  Town  and  Country 
Almanack,  are  familiar  to  him, — we  shall  say  nothing  : for 
unexampled  as  it  is  with  us,  to  the  Germans  such  universality 
of  study  passes  without  wonder,  as  a thing  commendable, 
indeed,  but  natural,  indispensable,  and  there  of  course.  A 
man  that  devotes  his  life  to  learning,  shall  he  not  be  learned  ? 

In  respect  of  style  our  Author  manifests  the  same  genial 
capability,  marred  too  often  by  the  same  rudeness,  inequality, 
and  apparent  want  of  intercourse  with  the  higher  classes. 
Occasionally,  as  above  hinted,  we  find  consummate  vigor,  a 
true  inspiration  ; his  burning  Thoughts  step  forth  in  fit  burn- 
ing Words,  like  so  many  full  formed  Minervas,  issuing  amid 
flame  and  splendor  from  Jove’s  head  ; a rich,  idiomatic  dic- 
tion, picturesque  allusions,  fiery  poetic  emphasis,  or  quaint 
tricksy  turns ; all  the  graces  and  terrors  of  a wild  Imagina- 
tion, wedded  to  the  clearest  Intellect,  alternate  in  beautiful 
vicissitude.  Were  it  not  that  sheer  sleeping  and  soporific 
passages  ; circumlocutions,  repetitions,  touches  even  of  pure 
doting  jargon,  so  often  intervene  ! On  the  whole,  Professor 
Teufelsdrockh  is  not  a cultivated  writer.  Of  his  sentences 
perhaps  not  more  than  nine-tenths  stand  straight  on  their 
legs  ; the  remainder  are  in  quite  angular  attitudes,  buttressed 
up  by  props  (of  parentheses  and  dashes),  and  ever  with  this 
or  the  other  tagrag  hanging  from  them  ; a few  even  sprawl 
out  helplessly  on  all  sides,  quite  broken-back  and  dismem- 
bered. Nevertheless,  in  almost  his  very  wrorst  moods,  there 
lies  in  him  a singular  attraction.  A wild  tone  pervades  the 


CHAR  A CTERISTICS. 


33 


whole  utterance  of  the  man,  like  his  kejmote  and  regulator ; 
now  screwing  itself  aloft  as  into  the  Song  of  Spirits,  or  else 
the  shrill  mockery  of  Fiends  ; now  sinking  in  cadences, 
not  without  melodious  heartiness,  though  sometimes  abrupt 
enough,  into  the  common  pitch,  when  we  hear  it  only  as  a 
monotonous  hum  ; of  which  hum  the  true  character  is  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  fix.  Up  to  this  hour  we  have  never  fully 
satisfied  ourselves  whether  it  is  a tone  and  hum  of  real 
Humour,  which  we  reckon  among  the  very  highest  qualities 
of  genius,  or  some  echo  of  mere  Insanity  and  Inanity,  which 
doubtless  ranks  below  the  very  lowest. 

Under  a like  difficulty,  in  spite  even  of  our  personal  inter- 
course, do  we  still  lie  with  regard  to  the  Professor’s  moral 
feeling.  Gleams  of  an  ethereal  Love  burst  forth  from  him, 
soft  wailings  of  infinite  Pity ; he  could  clasp  the  whole  Uni- 
verse into  his  bosom,  and  keep  it  warm  ; it  seems  as  if  under 
that  rude  exterior  there  dwelt  a very  seraph.  Then  again  he 
is  so  sly  and  still,  so  imperturbably  saturnine  ; shews  such  in- 
difference, malign  coolness  towards  all  that  men  strive  after ; 
and  ever  with  some  half-visible  wrinkle  of  a bitter  sardonic 
humour,  if  indeed  it  be  not  mere  stolid  callousness, — that  you 
look  on  him  almost  with  a shudder,  as  on  some  incarnate 
Mephistopheles,  to  whom  this  great  terrestrial  and  celestial 
Pound,  after  all,  were  but  some  huge  foolish  Whirligig,  where 
kings  and  beggars,  and  angels  and  demons,  and  stars  and 
street  sweepings,  were  chaotically  whirled,  in  which  only  chil- 
dren could  take  interest.  His  look,  as  we  mentioned,  is  prob- 
ably the  gravest  ever  seen  : yet  it  is  not  of  that  cast-iron  gravity 
frequent  enough  among  our  own  Chancery  suitors  ; but  rather 
the  gravity  of  as  some  silent,  high-encircled  mountain  pool, 
perhaps  the  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano ; into  whose  black 
deeps  you  fear  to  gaze  : those  eyes,  those  lights  that  sparkle 
in  it,  may  indeed  be  reflexes  of  the  heavenly  Stars,  but  perhaps 
also  glances  from  the  region  of  Nether  Fire  ! 

Certainly  a most  involved,  self-secluded,  altogether  enig- 
matic nature,  this  of  Teufelsdrockh ! Here,  however,  we 
gladly  recall  to  mind  that  once  we  saw  him  laugh  ; once  only, 
perhaps  it  was  the  first  and  last  time  in  his  life ; but  then 
3 


34 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


such,  a peal  of  laughter,  enough  to  have  awakened  the  Seven 
Sleepers!  It  was  of  Jean  Paul’s  doing:  some  single  billow 
in  that  vast  World-Mahlstrom  of  Humour,  with  its  heaven- 
kissing  coruscations,  which  is  now,  alas,  all  congealed  in  the 
frost  of  Death ! The  large-bodied  Poet  and  the  small,  both 
large  enough  in  soul,  sat  talking  miscellaneously  together,  the 
present  Editor  being  privileged  to  listen ; and  now  Paul,  in 
his  serious  way,  was  giving  one  of  those  inimitable  ‘ Extra-har- 
angues ; ’ and,  as  it  chanced,  On  the  Proposal  for  a Cast-metal 
King : gradually  a light  kindled  in  our  Professor’s  eyes  and 
face,  a beaming,  mantling,  loveliest  light ; through  those 
murky  features,  a radiant  ever-young  Apollo  looked  ; and  he 
burst  forth  like  the  neighing  of  all  Tattersall’s, — tears  stream- 
ing down  his  cheeks,  pipe  held  aloft,  foot  clutched  into  the 
air, — loud,  long-continuing,  uncontrollable  ; a laugh  not  of  the 
face  and  diaphragm  only,  but  of  the  whole  man  from  head  to 
heel.  The  present  Editor,  who  laughed  indeed,  yet  with  meas- 
ure, began  to  fear  all  was  not  right : however,  Teufelsdrockh 
composed  himself,  and  sank  into  his  old  stillness  ; on  his  in- 
scrutable countenance  there  was,  if  anything,  a slight  look  of 
shame  ; and  Eichter  himself  could  not  rouse  him  again.  Head- 
ers who  have  any  tincture  of  Psychology  know  how  much  is 
to  be  inferred  from  this ; and  that  no  man  who  has  once 
heartily  and  wholly  laughed  can  be  altogether  irreclaimably 
bad.  How  much  lies  in  Laughter : the  cipher-key,  wherewith 
we  decipher  the  whole  man  ! Some  men  wear  an  everlasting 
barren  simper  ; in  the  smile  of  others  lies  a cold  glitter  as  of 
ice  : the  fewest  are  able  to  laugh,  what  can  be  called  laughing, 
but  only  sniff  and  titter  and  snigger  from  the  throat  outward  ; 
or  at  best,  produce  some  whiffling  husky  cachinnation,  as  if 
they  were  laughing  through  wool  : of  none  such  comes  good. 
The  man  who  cannot  laugh  is  not  only  fit  for  treasons,  strata- 
gems, and  spoils ; but  his  whole  life  is  already  a treason  and 
a stratagem. 

Considered  as  an  author,  Herr  Teufelsdrockh  has  one 
scarcely  pardonable  fault,  doubtless  his  worst : an  almost  total 
want  of  arrangement.  In  this  remarkable  Volume,  it  is  true, 
his  adherence  to  the  mere  course  of  Time  produces,  through 


THE  WORLD  IN’  CLOTHES. 


35 


the  Narrative  portions,  a certain  shew  of  outward  method ; 
but  of  true  logical  method  and  sequence  there  is  too  little. 
Apart  from  its  multifarious  sections  and  subdivisions,  the 
Work  naturally  falls  into  two  Parts  ; a Historical-Descriptive, 
and  a Philosophical-Speculative : but  falls,  unhappily,  by  no 
firm  line  of  demarcation ; in  that  labyrinthic  combination, 
each  Part  overlaps,  and  indents,  and  indeed  runs  quite 
through  the  other.  Many  sections  are  of  a debatable  rubric, 
or  even  quite  nondescript  and  unnameable  ; whereby  the  Book 
not  only  loses  in  accessibility,  but  too  often  distresses  us  like 
some  mad  banquet,  wherein  all  courses  had  been  confounded, 
and  fish  and  flesh,  soup  and  solid,  oyster-sauce,  lettuces,  Rhine- 
wine  and  French  mustard,  were  hurled  into  one  huge  tureen 
or  trough,  and  the  hungry  Public  invited  to  help  itself.  To 
bring  what  order  we  can  out  of  this  Chaos  shall  be  part  of 
our  endeavour. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  WOULD  IN  CLOTHES. 

4 As  Montesquieu  wrote  a Spirit  of  Laws’  observes  our  Pro- 
fessor, 4 so  could  I write  a Spirit  of  Clothes ; thus,  with  an 
4 Esprit  des  Loix , properly  an  Esprit  de  Coutumes,  we  should 
4 have  an  Esprit  de  Costumes.  For  neither  in  tailoring  nor  in 
4 legislating  does  man  proceed  by  mere  Accident,  but  the  hand 
4 is  ever  guided  on  by  mysterious  operations  of  the  mind.  In 
4 all  his  Modes,  and  habilatory  endeavours,  an  Architectural 
4 Idea  will  be  found  lurking  ; his  Body  and  the  Cloth  are  the 
4 site  and  materials  whereon  and  whereby  his  beautified  edi- 
4 lice,  of  a Person,  is  to  be  built.  Whether  he  flows  gracefully 
4 out  in  folded  mantles,  based  on  light  sandals ; tower  up  in 
4 high  headgear,  from  amid  peaks,  spangles  and  bell-girdles  ; 
4 swell  out  in  starch  ruffs,  buckram  stuffings  and  monstrous 
4 tuberosities  ; or  girth  himself  into  separate  sections,  and 
4 front  the  world  an  Agglomeration  of  four  limbs, — will  depend 
4 on  the  nature  of  such  Architectural  Idea  : whether  Grecian, 
4 Gothic,  Later-Gothic,  or  altogether  Modern,  and  Parisian 


36 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


c or  Anglo-Dandical.  Again,  what  meaning  lies  in  Colour ! 

‘ From  the  soberest  drab  to  the  high-flaming  scarlet,  spiritual 
‘ idiosyncrasies  unfold  themselves  in  choice  of  Colour  : if  the 
‘ Cut  betoken  Intellect  and  Talent,  so  does  the  Colour  betoken 
‘ Temper  and  Heart.  In  all  which,  among  nations  as  among 
‘ individuals,  there  is  an  incessant,  indubitable,  though  in- 
‘ finitely  complex  working  of  Cause  and  Effect : every  snip  of 

* the  Scissors  has  been  regulated  and  prescribed  by  ever-active 
‘ Influences,  which  doubtless  to  Intelligences  of  a superior 
4 order  are  neither  invisible  nor  illegible. 

‘ For  such  superior  Intelligences  a Cause-and-Effect  Philoso- 
‘ phy  of  Clothes,  as  of  Laws,  were  probably  a comfortable 
‘ winter-evening  entertainment : nevertheless,  for  inferior  In- 

* telligences,  like  men,  such  Philosophies  have  always  seemed 
‘ to  me  uninstructive  enough.  Nay,  what  is  your  Montesquieu 

* himself  but  a clever  infant  spelling  Letters  from  a hiero- 
4 glyphical  prophetic  Book,  the  lexicon  of  which  hes  in  Eter- 
4 nity,  in  Heaven  ? — Let  any  Cause-and-Effect  Philosopher  ex- 

* plain,  not  why  I wear  such  and  such  a Garment,  obey  such 
4 and  such  a Law  ; but  even  why  I am  here , to  wear  and  obey 
4 any  thing  ! — Much,  therefore,  if  not  the  whole,  of  that  same 
4 Spirit  of  Clothes  I shall  suppress,  as  hypothetical,  ineffectual, 
4 and  even  impertinent : naked  Facts,  and  Deductions  drawn 
4 therefrom  in  quite  another  than  that  omniscient  style,  are 
‘ my  humbler  and  proper  province.’ 

Acting  on  which  prudent  restriction,  Teufelsdrockh  has 
nevertheless  contrived  to  take  in  a well-nigh  boundless  extent 
of  field ; at  least,  the  boundaries  too  often  lie  quite  beyond 
our  horizon.  Selection  being  indispensable,  we  shall  here 
glance  over  his  First  Part  only  in  the  most  cursory  manner. 
This  First  Part  is,  no  doubt,  distinguished  by  ominvorous  learn- 
ing, and  utmost  patience  and  fairness  : at  the  same  time,  in 
its  results  and  delineations,  it  is  much  more  likely  to  interest 
the  Compilers  of  some  Library  of  General,  Entertaining,  Use- 
ful, or  even  Useless  Knowledge  than  the  miscellaneous  read- 
ers of  these  pages.  Was  it  this  Part  of  the  Book  which 
Heusclirecke  had  in  view,  when  he  recommended  us  to  that 
joint-stock  vehicle  of  publication,  ‘at  present  the  glory  of 


THE  WORLD  IN  CLOTHES. 


37 


c British  Literature  ? ’ If  so,  the  Library  Editors  are  welcome 
to  dig  in  it  for  their  own  behoof. 

To  the  First  Chapter,  which  turns  on  Paradise  and  Fig- 
leaves,  and  leads  us  into  interminable  disquisitions  of  a 
mythological,  metaphorical,  cabalistico- sartorial  and  quite 
antediluvian  cast,  we  shall  content  ourselves  with  giving  an 
unconcerned  approval.  Still  less  have  we  to  do  with  ‘ Lilis, 

‘ Adam's  first  wife,  whom,  according  to  the  Talmudists,  he 
‘ had  before  Eve,  and  who  bore  him,  in  that  wedlock,  the 
‘ whole  progeny  of  aerial,  aquatic,  and  terrestrial  Devils,’ — - 
very  needlessly,  we  think.  On  this  portion  of  the  Work, 
with  its  profound  glances  into  the  Adam-Kadmon , or  Primeval 
Element,  here  strangely  brought  into  relation  with  the  Niji 
and  Muspel  (Darkness  and  Light)  of  the  antique  North,  it  may 
be  enough  to  say  that  its  correctness  of  deduction,  and  depth 
of  Talmudic  and  Babbinical  lore  have  filled  perhaps  not  the 
worst  Hebraist  in  Britain  with  something  like  astonishment. 

But  quitting  this  twilight  region,  Teufelsdrockh  hastens 
from  the  Tower  of  Babel,  to  follow  the  dispersion  of  Mankind 
over  the  whole  habitable  and  habitable  globe.  Walking  by 
the  light  of  Oriental,  Pelasgic,  Scandinavian,  Egyptian,  Ota- 
heitean,  Ancient  and  Modern  researches  of  every  conceivable 
kind,  he  strives  to  give  us  in  compressed  shape  (as  the  Nurn- 
bergers  give  an  Orbis  Piet  us)  an  Orbis  Vestitus  ; or  view  of 
the  costumes  of  all  mankind,  in  all  countries,  in  all  times.  It 
is  here  that  to  the  Antiquarian,  to  the  Historian,  we  can  tri- 
umphantly say  : Fall  to ! Here  is  Learning  : an  irregular 
Treasury,  if  you  will ; but  inexhaustible  as  the  Hoard  of  King 
Nibelung,  which  twelve  wagons  in  twelve  days,  at  the  rate  of 
three  journeys  a day,  could  not  carry  off.  Sheepskin  cloaks 
and  wampum  belts  ; phylacteries,  stoles,  albs ; chlamides, 
togas,  Chinese  silks,  Afghaun  shawls,  trunk-hose,  leather 
breeches,  Celtic  philibegs  (though  breeches,  as  the  name  Gal- 
lia Braccata  indicates,  are  the  more  ancient),  Hussar  cloaks, 
Vandyke  tippets,  ruffs,  fardingales,  are  brought  vividly  before 
us, — even  the  Kilmarnock  nightcap  is  not  forgotten.  For 
most  part  too  we  must  admit  that  the  Learning,  heterogene- 
ous as  it  is,  and  tumbled  down  quite  pell-mell,  is  true  concern 


38 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


trated  and  purified  Learning,  the  drossy  parts  smelted  out 
and  thrown  aside. 

Philosophical  reflections  intervene,  and  sometimes  touching 
pictures  of  human  life.  Of  this  sort  the  following  has  sur- 
prised us.  The  first  purpose  of  clothes,  as  our  Professor 
imagines,  was  not  warmth  or  decency,  but  ornament.  ‘ Mis- 
erable indeed/  says  he,  ‘was  the  condition  of  the  Aboriginal 
‘ Savage,  glaring  fiercely  from  under  his  fleece  of  hair,  which 
‘ with  the  beard  reached  down  to  his  loins,  and  hung  round 
‘ him  like  a matted  cloak  ; the  rest  of  his  body  sheeted  in  its 
‘ thick  natural  fell.  He  loitered  in  the  sunny  glades  of  the 
‘ forest,  living  on  wild  fruits  ; or,  as  the  ancient  Caledonian, 
‘ squatted  himself  in  morasses,  lurking  for  his  bestial  or 
* human  prey  ; without  implements,  without  arms,  save  the 
‘ ball  of  heavy  Flint,  to  which,  that  his  sole  possession  and 
‘ defence  might  not  be  lost,  he  had  attached  a long  cord  of 
‘ plaited  thongs  ; thereby  recovering  as  well  as  hurling  it  with 
‘ deadly  unerring  skill.  Nevertheless,  the  pains  of  Hunger 
‘ and  Revenge  once  satisfied,  his  next  care  was  not  Comfort 
‘ but  Decoration  ( Putz ).  Warmth  he  found  in  the  toils  of  the 
‘ chase ; or  amid  dry  leaves  in  his  hollow  tree,  in  his  bark 
‘ shed,  or  natural  grotto : but  for  Decoration  he  must  have 
‘ Clothes.  Nay,  among  wild  people,  we  find  tattooing  and 
‘ painting  even  prior  to  Clothes.  The  first  spiritual  want  of 
‘ a barbarous  man  is  Decoration,  as  indeed  we  still  see  among 
‘ the  barbarous  classes  in  civilized  countries. 

‘ Reader,  the  heaven-inspired  melodious  Singer  ; loftiest  Se- 
‘ rene  Highness  : nay  thy  own  amber-locked,  snow-and-rose- 
‘ bloom  Maiden,  worthy  to  glide  sylphlike  almost  on  air,  w’hom 
‘ thou  lovest,  worshippest  as  a divine  Presence,  which,  indeed, 
‘ symbolically  taken,  she  is — has  descended,  like  thyself,  from 
‘ that  same  hair-mantled,  flint-hurling  Aboriginal  Antliro- 
‘ pophagus  ! Out  of  the  eater  cometh  forth  meat ; out  of  the 
‘ strong  cometh  forth  sweetness.  What  changes  are  wrought, 
‘not  by  Time,  yet  in  Time ! For  not  Mankind  only,  but  all 
‘that  Mankind  does  or  beholds,  is  in  continual  growth,  re- 
‘ genesis  and  self-perfecting  vitality.  Cast  forth  thy  Act,  thy 
‘ Word,  into  the  ever-living,  ever-wTorking  Universe : it  is  a 


THE  WORLD  IN  CLOTHES. 


39 


4 seed-grain  that  cannot  die  ; unnoticed  to-day  (says  one),  it 
4 will  be  found  flourishing  as  a Banyan-grove  (perhaps,  alas,  as 
4 a Hemlock-forest !)  after  a thousand  years. 

4 He  who  first  shortened  the  labour  of  Copyists  by  device 
‘of  Movable  Types  was  disbanding  hired  Armies,  and  cashier- 
ing most  Kings  and  Senates,  and  creating  a whole  new  Dem- 
4 ocratic  world  ; he  had  invented  the  Art  of  Printing.  The 
4 first  ground  handful  of  Nitre,  Sulphur,  and  Charcoal  drove 
4 Monk  Schwartz’s  pestel  through  the  ceiling ; what  will  the 
4 last  do  ? Achieve  the  final  undisputed  prostration  of  Force 
4 under  Thought,  of  Animal  courage  under  Spiritual.  A simple 
4 invention  it  was  in  the  old-world  Grazier, — sick  of  lugging 
4 his  slow  Ox  about  the  country  till  he  got  it  bartered  for  corn 
4 or  oil, — to  take  a piece  of  Leather,  and  thereon  scratch  or 
4 stamp  the  mere  Figure  of  an  Ox  (or  Pecus)  ; put  it  in  his 
4 pocket,  and  call  it  Pecunia , Money.  Yet  hereby  did  Barter 
4 grow  Sale,  the  Leather  Money  is  now  Golden  and  Paper,  and 
4 all  miracles  have  been  out-miracled : for  there  are  Bothschilds 
4 and  English  National  Debts ; and  whoso  has  sixpence  is 
4 Sovereign  (to  the  length  of  sixpence)  over  all  men ; com- 
4 mands  Cooks  to  feed  him,  Philosophers  to  teach  him,  Kings 
4 to  mount  guard  over  him, — to  the  length  of  sixpence.— 
4 Clothes  too,  which  began  in  foolishest  love  of  Ornament, 
4 what  have  they  not  become ! Increased  Security,  and 
‘pleasurable  Heat  soon  followed  : but  what  of  these  ? Shame, 
‘divine  Shame  ( Schaam , Modesty),  as  yet  a stranger  to  the 
4 Anthropophagous  bosom,  arose  there  mysteriously  under 
4 Clothes ; a mystic  grove-encircled  shrine  for  the  Holy  in 
4 man.  Clothes  gave  us  individuality,  distinctions,  social 
4 polity  ; Clothes  have  made  Men  of  us  ; they  are  threatening 
4 to  make  Clothes-screens  of  us. 

4 But  on  the  whole,’  continues  our  eloquent  Professor,  4 Man 
4 is  a Tool-using  Animal  (Hanthiere rides  Tiiier).  Weak  in  liim- 
4 self,  and  of  small  stature,  he  stands  on  a basis,  at  most  for 
4 the  flattest-soled,  of  some  half  square-foot,  insecurely  enough ; 
‘has  to  straddle  out  his  legs,  lest  the  very  wind  supplant  him. 
‘Feeblest  of  bipeds  ! Three  quintals  are  a crushing  load  for 
4 him  ; the  Steer  of  the  meadow  tosses  him  aloft,  like  a waste 


40 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


c rag.  Nevertheless  he  can  use  Tools,  can  devise  Tools  : with 
c these  the  granite  mountain  melts  into  light  dust  before  him  ; 
‘ he  kneads  glowing  iron,  as  if  it  were  soft  paste  ; seas  are  his 
‘ smooth  high- way,  winds  and  fire  his  unwearying  steeds.  No- 

* where  do  you  find  him  without  Tools  ; without  Tools  he  is 
‘nothing,  with  Tools  he  is  all.’ 

Here  may  we  not,  for  a moment,  interrupt  the  stream  of 
Oratory  with  a remark  that  this  Definition  of  the  Tool-using 
Animal,  appears  to  us,  of  all  that  Animal-sort,  considerably 
the  precisest  and  best  ? Man  is  called  a Laughing  Animal : 
but  do  not  the  apes  also  laugh,  or  attempt  to  do  it ; and  is  the 
manliest  man  the  greatest  and  oftenest  laugher?  Teufels- 
drockh  himself,  as  we  said,  laughed  only  once.  Still  less  do 
we  make  of  that  other  French  Definition  of  the  Cooking  Ani- 
mal ; which,  indeed,  for  rigorous  scientific  purposes,  is  as 
good  as  useless.  Can  a Tartar  be  said  to  cook,  when  he  only 
readies  his  steak  by  riding  on  it  ? Again,  what  Cookery  does 
the  Greenlander  use,  beyond  stowing  up  his  whale-blubber, 
as  a marmot  in  the  like  case,  might  do  ? Or  how  would  Mon- 
sieur Ude  prosper  among  those  Orinocco  Indians  who,  accord- 
ing to  Humboldt,  lodge  in  crow-nests,  on.  the  branches  of 
trees  ; and,  for  half  the  year,  have  no  victuals  but  pipe-clay, 
the  whole  country  being  under  water?  But  on  the  other 
hand,  shew  us  the  human  being,  of  any  period  or  climate,  with- 
out his  Tools : those  very  Caledonians,  as  we  saw,  had  their 
Flint-ball,  and  Thong  to  it,  such  as  no  brute  has  or  can  have. 

‘ Man  is  a Tool-using  animal,’  concludes  Teufelsdrockh  in 
his  abrupt  way  ; c of  which  truth  Clothes  are  but  one  ex- 
ample : and  surely  if  we  consider  the  interval  between  the 
- first  wooden  Dibble  fashioned  by  man,  and  those  Liverpool 
£ Steam-carriages,  or  the  British  House  of  Commons,  we  shall 
‘ note  what  progress  he  has  made.  He  digs  up  certain  black 

• stones  from  the  bosom  of  the  Earth,  and  says  to  them,  Trans- 
‘ port  me  and  this  luggage , at  the  rate  of  fve-and-thirty  miles  an 
‘ hour  ; and  they  do  it : he  collects,  apparently  by  lot,  six 
£ hundred  and  fifty-eight  miscellaneous  individuals,  and  says 
‘ to  them,  Make  this  nation  toil  for  us,  bleed  for  us,  hunger , and 
‘ sorrow,  and  sin  for  us  ; and  they  do  it.’ 


APRONS. 


41 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

APRONS. 

One  of  the  most  unsatisfactory  Sections  in  the  whole  Volume 
is  that  on  Aprons . What  though  stout  old  Gao,  the  Persian 
Blacksmith,  ‘whose  apron,  now  indeed  hidden  under  jewels, 

4 because  raised  in  revolt  which  proved  successful,  is  still  the 
‘ royal  standard  of  that  country ; ’ what  though  J ohn  Knox’s 
Daughter,  4 who  threatened  Sovereign  Majesty  that  she  would 
‘ catch  her  husband’s  head  in  her  Apron,  rather  than  he 
4 should  lie  and  be  a bishop  ; ’ what  though  the  Landgravine 
Elizabeth,  with  many  other  Apron  worthies, — figure  here? 
An  idle  wire-drawing  spirit,  sometimes  even  a tone  of  levity, 
approaching  to  conventional  satire,  is  too  clearly  discernible. 
What,  for  example,  are  we  to  make  of  such  sentences  as  the 
following  ? 

4 Aprons  are  Defences  ; against  injury  to  cleanliness,  to 
£ safety,  to  modesty,  sometimes  to  roguery.  From  the  thin 
4 slip  of  notched  silk  (as  it  were,  the  Emblem  and  beatified 
4 Ghost  of  an  Apron),  which  some  highest-bred  housewife, 
4 sitting  at  Nurnberg  Workboxes  and  Toyboxes,  has  gracefully 
* fastened  on  ; to  the  thick-tanned  hide,  girt  round  him  with 
4 thongs,  wherein  the  Builder  builds,  and  at  evening  sticks 
4 his  trowel ; or  to  those  jingling  sheet-iron  Aprons,  wherein 
4 your  otherwise  half-naked  Vulcans  hammer  and  smelt  in 
4 their  smelt-furnace, — is  there  not  range  enough  in  the  fashion 
4 and  uses  of  this  Vestment  ? How  much  has  been  concealed, 
4 how  much  has  been  defended  in  Aprons  ! Nay,  rightly  con- 
4 sidered,  what  is  your  whole  Military  and  Police  Establish- 
4 ment,  charged  at  uncalculated  millions,  but  a huge  scarlet- 
4 coloured,  iron-fastened  Apron,  wherein  Society  works 
‘ (uneasily  enough)  ; guarding  itself  from  some  soil  and 
4 stithy-sparks,  in  this  Devil’s-smithy  ( Teufels-schmiede ) of  a 
4 world  ? But  of  all  Aprons  the  most  puzzling  to  me  hitherto 
4 has  been  the  Episcopal  or  Cassock.  Wherein  consists  the 
4 usefulness  of  this  Apron  ? The  Overseer  ( Episcopus ) of  Souls, 


42 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ I notice,  has  tucked-in  the  corner  of  it,  as  if  his  day’s  work 
‘ was  done  : what  does  he  shadow  forth  thereby  ? 5 &c.  &c. 

Or  again,  has  it  often  been  the  lot  of  our  readers  to  read 
such  stuff  as  we  shall  now  quote  ? 

‘I  consider  those  printed  Paper  Aprons,  worn  by  the  Pari- 
‘ sian  Cooks,  as  a new  vent,  though  a slight  one,  for  Typog- 
raphy ; therefore  as  an  encouragement  to  modern  Literature, 
‘ and  deserving  of  approval : nor  is  it  without  satisfaction  that 
‘ I hear  of  a celebrated  London  Firm  having  in  view  to  intro- 
duce the  same  fashion,  with  important  extensions,  in  Eng- 
land.’— We  who  are  on  the  spot  hear  of  no  such  thing  ; and 
indeed  have  reason  to  be  thankful  that  hitherto  there  are 
other  vents  for  our  Literature,  exuberant  as  it  is. — Teufels- 
drockh  continues  : ‘ If  such  supply  of  printed  Paper  should 
‘ rise  so  far  as  to  choke  up  the  highways  and  public  thorough- 
‘ fares,  new  means  must  of  necessity  be  had  recourse  to.  In 
‘ a world  existing  by  Industry,  we  grudge  to  employ  fire  as  a 
‘ destroying  element,  and  not  as  a creating  one.  However, 
‘Heaven  is  omnipotent,  and  will  find  us  an  outlet.  In  the 
‘ meanwhile,  is  it  not  beautiful  to  see  five  million  quintals  of 
‘ Bags  picked  annually  from  the  Laystall ; and  annually,  after 
‘being  macerated,  hot-pressed,  printed  on,  and  sold, — re- 
‘ turned  thither  ; filling  so  many  hungry  mouths  by  the  way  ? 
‘ Thus  is  the  Laystall,  especially  with  its  Eags  or  Clotlies- 
‘ rubbish,  the  grand  Electric  Battery,  and  Fountain-of-motion, 
‘ from  which  and  to  which  the  Social  Activities  (like  vitreous 
‘and  resinous  Electricities)  circulate,  in  larger  or  smaller 
‘ circles,  through  the  mighty,  billowy,  storm  tost  Chaos  of  Life, 
‘which  they  keep  alive  ! ’ — Such  passages  fill  us,  who  love  the 
man,  and  partly  esteem  him,  with  a very  mixed  feeling. 

Farther  down  we  meet  with  this  : ‘The  Journalists  are  now 
‘ the  true  Kings  and  Clergy  : henceforth  Historians,  unless 
‘ they  are  fools,  must  write  not  of  Bourbon  Dynasties,  and 
‘Tudors  and  Hapsburgs  ; but  of  Stamped  Broad -sheet  Dy- 
‘ nasties,  and  quite  new  successive  Names,  according  as  this 
‘ or  the  other  Able  Editor,  or  Combination  of  Able  Editors, 
‘gains  the  world’s  ear.  Of  the  British  Newspaper  Press, 
‘ perhaps  the  most  important  of  all,  and  wonderful  enough  in 


MISCELLANEO  US-HISTORICAL . 


43 


c its  secret  constitution  and  procedure,  a valuable  descriptive 
‘ History  already  exists,  in  that  language,  under  the  title  of 
‘ Satan's  Invisible  World  Displayed  ; which,  however,  by  search 
4 in  all  the  Weissnichtwo  Libraries,  I have  not  yet  succeeded 
‘in  procuring  ( vermbchte  niclit  aufzutreiben ).’ 

Thus  does  the  good  Homer  not  only  nod,  but  snore.  Thus 
does  Teufelsdrockh,  wandering  in  regions  where  he  had  little 
business,  confound  the  old  authentic  Presbyterian  Witch- 
finder,  with  a new,  spurious,  imaginary  Historian  of  the  Brit- 
tische  Journahstik ; and  so  stumble  on  perhaps  the  most 
egregious  blunder  in  modern  Literature  ! 


CHAPTER  YH. 

MISCELLANEOUS-HISTORICAL. 

Happier  is  our  Professor,  and  more  purely  scientific  and 
historic,  when  he  reaches  the  Middle  Ages  in  Europe,  and 
down  to  the  end  of  the  Seventeenth  Century  ; the  true  era  of 
extravagance  in  costume.  It  is  here  that  the  Antiquary  and 
Student  of  Modes  comes  upon  his  richest  harvest.  Fantastic 
garbs,  beggaring  all  fancy  of  a Teniers  or  a Callot,  succeed 
each  other,  like  monster  devouring  monster  in  a Dream.  The 
whole  too  in  brief  authentic  strokes,  and  touched  not  seldom 
with  that  breath  of  genius  which  makes  even  old  raiment  live. 
Indeed,  so  learned,  precise,  graphical,  and  every  way  interest- 
ing have  we  found  these  Chapters,  that  it  may  be  thrown  out 
as  a pertinent  question  for  parties  concerned,  Whether  or  not 
a good  English  Translation  thereof  might  henceforth  be  profit- 
ably incorporated  with  Mr.  Merrick’s  valuable  Work  On  An- 
cient Armour  ? Take,  by  way  of  example,  the  following  sketch  ; 
as  authority  for  which  Paulinus’s  Zeitkurzende  Lust  (ii.  678) 
is,  with  seeming  confidence,  referred  to : 

‘ Did  we  behold  the  German  fashionable  dress  of  the  Fif- 
‘ teenth  Century,  we  might  smile  ; as  perhaps  those  bygone 
‘ Germans,  were  they  to  rise  again,  and  see  our  haberdashery, 
‘ would  cross  themselves,  and  invoke  the  Virgin.  But  happily 
‘ no  bygone  German,  or  man,  rises  again  ; thus  the  Present 


44 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


i is  not  needlessly  trammelled  with  the  Past ; and  only  grows 

* out  of  it,  like  a Tree,  whose  roots  are  not  intertangled  with 
€ its  branches,  but  lie  peaceably  under  ground.  Nay  it  is  very 
£ mournful,  yet  not  useless,  to  see  and  know,  how  the  Great- 
6 est  and  Dearest,  in  a short  while,  would  find  his  place  quite 
£ filled  up  here,  and  no  room  for  him  ; the  very  Napoleon,  the 
‘ very  Byron,  in  some  seven  years,  has  become  obsolete,  and 
‘ were  now  a foreigner  to  his  Europe.  Thus  is  the  Law  of 
£ Progress  secured ; and  in  Clothes,  as  in  all  other  external 

* things  whatsoever,  no  fashion  wTill  continue. 

£ Of  the  military  classes  in  those  old  times,  whose  buff  belts, 

* complicated  chains  and  gorgets,  huge  churn-boots,  and  other 
£ riding  and  fighting  gear  have  been  bepainted  in  modern  Ro- 
£ mance,  till  the  whole  has  acquired  somewhat  of  a sign-post 
£ character, — I shall  here  say  nothing  : the  civil  and  pacific 
£ classes,  less  touched  upon,  are  wonderful  enough  for  us. 

‘ Rich  men,  I find,  have  Teusinke 9 (a  perhaps  untranslateable 
article)  ; £ also  a silver  girdle,  whereat  hang  little  bells  ; so  that 
£ when  a man  walks  it  is  with  continual  jingling.  Some  few, 
‘ of  musical  turn,  have  a whole  chime  of  bells  ( Glockenspiel ) 
‘ fastened  there  ; which  especially,  in  sudden  whirls,  and  the 
£ other  accidents  of  walking,  has  a grateful  effect.  Observe 
£ too  how  fond  they  are  of  peaks,  and  Gothic-arch  intersec- 
£ tions.  The  male  world  wears  peaked  caps,  an  ell  Jong,  wThich 
£ hang  bobbing  over  the  side  (schirf) : their  shoes  are  peaked 
£ in  front,  also  to  the  length  of  an  ell,  and  laced  on  the  side 
‘ with  tags  ; even  the  wooden  shoes  have  their  ell -long  noses  ; 
4 some  also  clap  bells  on  the  peak.  Further,  according  to  my 

* authority,  the  men  have  breeches  without  seat  ( ohne  Gestiss)  : 
£ these  they  fasten  peakwise  to  their  shirts  ; and  the  long 
£ round  doublet  must  overlap  them. 

£ Rich  maidens,  again,  flit  abroad  in  gowns  scolloped  outbe- 
1 hind  and  before,  so  that  back  and  breast  are  almost  bare. 
£ Wives  of  quality,  on  the  other  hand,  have  train-gowns  four 
£ or  five  ells  in  length  ; which  trains  there  are  boys  to  carry. 
£ Brave  Cleopatras,  sailing  in  their  silk-cloth  Galley,  with  a 
£ Cupid  for  steersman  ! Consider  their  welts,  a handbreadth 

* thick,  which  waver  round  them  by  way  of  hem ; the  long 


MISCELL  ANEO  US-HISTORICAL. 


45 


4 flood  of  silver  buttons,  or  rather  silver  shells,  from  throat  to 
4 shoe,  wherewith  these  same  welt-gowns  are  buttoned.  The 
4 maidens  have  bound  silver  snoods  about  their  hair,  with 
4 gold  spangles,  and  pendent  flames  (. Flam, men ),  that  is,  spark- 
4 ling  hair-drops  : but  of  their  mother’s  headgear  who  shall 
4 speak  ? Neither  in  love  of  grace  is  comfort  forgotten.  In 
4 winter  weather  you  behold  the  whole  fair  creation  (that  can 
4 afford  it)  in  long  mantles,  with  skirts  -wide  below,  and,  for 
4 hem,  not  one  but  two  sufficient  handbroad  welts  ; all  ending 
4 atop  in  a thick  well-starched  Buff,  some  twenty  inches  broad : 
4 these  are  their  Buff-mantles  ( Kragenmdntel ). 

4 As  yet  among  the  womankind  hoop-petticoats  are  not ; 
4 but  the  men  have  doublets  of  fustian,  under  which  lie  mul- 
4 tiple  ruffs  of  cloth,  pasted  together  with  batter  (mit  Teig 
4 ziisammengelcleistert),  which  create  protuberance  enough. 
4 Thus  do  the  two  sexes  vie  with  each  other  in  the  art  of  Deco- 
4 ration  ; and  as  usual  the  stronger  carries  it/ 

Our  Professor,  whether  he  have  Humour  himself  or  not, 
manifests  a certain  feeling  of  the  Ludicrous,  a sly  observance 
of  it,  which,  could  emotion  of  any  kind  be  confidently  pre- 
dicated of  so  still  a man,  we  might  call  a real  love.  None  of 
those  bell-girdles,  bushel-breeches,  cornuted  shoes  or  other 
the  like  phenomena,  of  which  the  History  of  Dress  offers  so 
many,  escape  him  ; more  especially  the  mischances,  or  strik- 
ing adventures,  incident  to  the  wearers  of  such,  are  noticed 
with  due  fidelity.  Sir  Walter  Baleigh’s  fine  mantle,  which  he 
spread  in  the  mud  under  Queen  Elizabeth’s  feet,  appears  to 
provoke  little  enthusiasm  in  him  ; he  merely  asks,  Whether  at 
that  period  the  Maiden  Queen  4 was  red-painted  on  the  nose, 
4 and  white-painted  on  the  cheeks,  as  her  tirewomen,  when 
4 from  spleen  and  wrinkles  she  would  no  longer  look  in  any 
glass,  were  wont  to  serve  her?’  We  can  answer  that  Sir 
Walter  knew  well  what  he  was  doing,  and  had  the  Maiden 
Queen  been  stuffed  parchment  died  in  verdigris,  would  have 
done  the  same. 

Thus  too,  treating  of  those  enormous  habiliments,  that  were 
not  only  slashed  and  galooned,  but  artificially  swollen  out  on 
the  broader  parts  of  the  body,  by  introduction  of  Bran, — our 


46 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


Professor  fails  not  to  comment  on  that  luckless  Courtier,  who 
having  seated  himself  on  a chair  with  some  projecting  nail 
on  it,  and  therefrom  rising,  to  pay  his  devoir  on  the  entrance 
of  Majesty,  instantaneously  emitted  several  pecks  of  dry 
wheat-dust : and  stood  there  diminished  to  a spindle,  his  ga~ 
loons  and  slashes  dangling  sorrowful  and  flabby  round  him. 
Whereupon  the  Professor  publishes  this  reflection : 

4 By  what  strange  chances  do  we  live  in  History  ! Erostra- 
4 tus  by  a torch  ; Milo  by  a bullock  ; Henry  Darnley,  an  un- 
4 fledged  booby  and  bustard,  by  his  limbs ; most  Kings  and 
4 Queens  by  being  born  under  such  and  such  a bed-tester ; 
4 Boileau  Despreaux  (according  to  Helvetius)  by  the  peck  of 
4 a turkey ; and  this  ill-starred  individual  by  a rent  in  his 
4 breeches, — for  no  Memoirist  of  Kaiser  Otto’s  Court  omits 
4 him.  Vain  was  the  prayer  of  Themistocles  for  a talent  of 
4 Forgetting : my  Friends,  yield  cheerfully  to  Destiny,  and 
4 read  since  it  is  written.’ — Has  Teufelsdrockh  to  be  put  in 
mind  that,  nearly  related  to  the  impossible  talent  of  Forget- 
ting, stands  that  talent  of  Silence,  which  even  travelling  Eng- 
lishmen manifest  ? 

4 The  simplest  costume,’  observes  our  Professor,  4 which  I 
4 anywhere  find  alluded  to  in  History,  is  that  used  as  regimen- 
4 tal,  by  Bolivar’s  Cavalry,  in  the  late  Columbian  wars.  A 
4 square  Blanket,  twelve  feet  in  diagonal,  is  provided  (some 
4 were  wont  to  cut  off  the  corners,  and  make  it  circular)  : in 
4 the  centre  a slit  is  effected  eighteen  inches  long  : through 
4 this  the  mother-naked  Trooper  introduces  his  head  and 
4 neck  ; and  so  rides  shielded  from  all  weather,  and  in  battle 
4 from  many  strokes  (for  he  rolls  it  about  his  left  arm) ; and 
4 not  only  dressed,  but  harnessed  and  draperied.’ 

With  which  picture  of  a State  of  Nature,  affecting  by  its 
singularity,  and  Old-Boman  contempt  of  the  superfluous,  wre 
shall  quit  this  part  of  our  subject. 


THE  WORLD  OUT  OF  CLOTHES. 


47 


CHAPTER  VEX 

THE  WORLD  OUT  OF  CLOTHES. 

If  in  the  Descriptive-Historical  Portion  of  this  Volume, 
Teufelsdrockh,  discussing  merely  the  Werden  (Origin  and 
successive  Improvement)  of  Clothes,  has  astonished  many  a 
reader,  much  more  will  he  in  the  Speculative-Philosophical 
Portion,  which  treats  of  their  Wirken  or  Influences.  It  is 
here  that  the  present  Editor  first  feels  the  pressure  of  his 
task  ; for  here  properly  the  higher  and  new  Philosophy  of 
Clothes  commences  : an  untried,  almost  inconceivable  region, 
or  chaos ; in  venturing  upon  which,  how  difficult,  yet  how 
unspeakably  important  is  it  to  know  what  course,  of  survey 
and  conquest,  is  the  true  one  ; where  the  footing  is  firm  sub- 
stance and  will  bear  us,  where  it  is  hollow,  or  mere  cloud, 
and  may  engulf  us  ! Teufelsdrockh  undertakes  no  less  than 
to  expound  the  moral,  political,  even  religious  Influences  of 
Clothes  ; he  undertakes  to  make  manifest,  in  its  thousandfold 
bearings,  this  grand  Proposition,  that  Man’s  earthly  interests 
‘are  all  hooked  and  buttoned  together,  and  held  up,  by 
Clothes.’  He  says  in  so  many  words,  ‘Society  is  founded 
upon  Cloth  ; ’ and  again,  ‘ Society  sails  through  the  Infinitude 
‘ on  Cloth,  as  on  a Faust’s  Mantle,  or  rather  like  the  Sheet  of 
‘ clean  and  unclean  beasts  in  the  Apostle’s  Dream  ; and  with- 
‘ out  such  Sheet  or  Mantle,  would  sink  to  endless  depths,  or 
‘mount  to  inane  limboes,  and  in  either  case  be  no  more.’ 

By  what  chains,  or  indeed  infinitely  complected  tissues,  of 
Meditation  this  grand  Theorem  is  here  unfolded,  and  innu- 
merable practical  Corollaries  are  drawn  therefrom,  it  were  per- 
haps a mad  ambition  to  attempt  exhibiting.  Our  Professor’s 
method  is  not,  in  any  case,  that  of  common  school  Logic, 
where  the  truths  all  stand  in  a row,  each  holding  by  the 
skirts  of  the  other  ; but  at  best  that  of  practical  Reason,  pro- 
ceeding by  large  Intuition  over  whole  systematic  groups  and 
kingdoms  ; whereby,  we  might  say,  a noble  complexity,  al- 
most like  that  of  Nature,  reigns  in  his  Philosophy,  or  spir' 


48 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


itual  Picture  of  Nature : a mighty  maze,  yet  as  faith  whispers, 
not  without  a plan.  Nay  we  complained  above,  that  a certain 
ignoble  complexity,  what  we  must  call  mere  confusion,  was 
also  discernible.  Often,  also,  we  have  to  exclaim  : Would  to 
Heaven  those  same  Biographical  Documents  were  come  ! 
For  it  seems  as  if  the  demonstration  lay  much  in  the  Au- 
thor’s individuality  ; as  if  it  were  not  Argument  that  had 
taught  him,  but  Experience.  At  present  it  is  only  in  local 
glimpses,  and  by  significant  fragments,  picked  often  at  wide 
enough  intervals  from  the  original  Volume,  and  carefully  col- 
lated, that  we  can  hope  to  impart  some  outline  or  foreshadow 
of  this  Doctrine.  Headers  of  any  intelligence  are  once  more 
invited  to  favour  us  with  their  most  concentrated  attention  : 
let  these,  after  intense  consideration,  and  not  till  then,  pro- 
nounce, Whether  on  the  utmost  verge  of  our  actual  horizon 
there  is  not  a looming  as  of  Land  ; a promise  of  new  Fortu- 
nate Islands,  perhaps  whole  undiscovered  Americas,  for  such 
as  have  canvass  to  sail  thither  ? — As  exordium  to  the  whole, 
stand  here  the  following  long  citation : 

‘With  men  of  a speculative  turn/  writes  Teufelsdrockh, 
‘ there  come  seasons,  meditative,  sweet,  yet  awful  hours,  when 
‘ in  wonder  and  fear  you  ask  yourself  that  unanswerable  ques- 
tion: Who  am  I;  the  thing  that  can  say  “I”  (das  Wesen 
‘ das  sich  Icn  nennt)  ? The  world,  with  its  loud  trafficking, 
‘retires  into  the  distance  ; and  through  the  paper-hangings, 
‘and  stone-walls,  and  thick-plied  tissues  of  Commerce  and 
‘ Polity,  and  all  the  living  and  lifeless  integuments  (of  Society 
‘ and  a Body),  wherewith  your  Existence  sits  surrounded, — 
‘ the  sight  reaches  forth  into  the  void  Deep,  and  you  are  alone 
‘with  the  Universe,  and  silently  commune  with  it  as  one 
‘ mysterious  Presence  with  another. 

‘ Who  am  I ; what  is  this  Me  ? A voice,  a Motion,  an  Ap- 
pearance;— some  embodied,  visualised  Idea  in  the  Eternal 
‘Mind?  Cogito,  ergo  sum . Alas,  poor  Cogitator,  this  takes 
‘ us  but  a little  way.  Sure  enough  I am ; and  lately  was  not : 
‘ but  Whence  ? How  ? Whereto  ? The  answer  lies  around, 
‘written  in  all  colours  and  motions,  uttered  in  all  tones  of 
‘jubilee  and  wail,  in  thousand-figured,  thousand-voiced,  har- 


THE  WORLD  OUT  OF  CLOTHES. 


49 


' monious  Nature  : but  where  is  the  cunning  eye  and  ear  to 
‘whom  that  God- written  Apocalypse  will  yield  articulate 
‘meaning?  We  sit  as  in  a boundless  Phantasmagoria  and 
4 Dream-grotto ; boundless,  for  the  faintest  star,  the  remotest 
4 century,  lies  not  even  nearer  the  verge  thereof  : sounds  and 
4 many-coloured  visions  flit  around  our  sense  ; but  Him,  the 
4 Unslumbering,  whose  work  both  Dream  and  Dreamer  are, 
4 we  see  not ; except  in  rare  half- waking  moments,  suspect 
4 not.  Creation,  says  one,  lies  before  us,  like  a glorious  Rain- 
4 bow  ; but  the  Sun  that  made  it  lies  behind  us,  hidden  from 
4 us.  Then,  in  that  strange  Dream,  how  we  clutch  at  shadows 
4 as  if  they  were  substances  ; and  sleep  deepest  while  fancy- 
ing ourselves  most  awake!  Which  of  your  Philosophical 
4 Systems  is  other  than  a dream-theorem  ; a net  quotient, 
4 confidently  given  out,  where  divisor  and  dividend  are  both 
‘unknown?  What  are  all  your  national  Wars,  with  their 
‘Moscow  Retreats,  and  sanguinary  hate-filled  Revolutions, 
4 but  the  Somnambulism  of  uneasy  Sleepers  ? This  Dream- 
4 ing,  this  Somnabulism  is  what  we  on  Earth  call  Life  ; where- 
4 in  the  most  indeed  undoubtingly  wander,  as  if  they  knew 
4 right  hand  from  left ; yet  they  only  are  wise  who  know  that 
4 they  know  nothing. 

4 Pity  that  all  Metaphysics  had  hitherto  proved  so  inexpres- 
4 sibly  unproductive  ! The  secret  of  Man’s  Being  is  still  like 
4 the  Sphinx’s  secret : a riddle  that  he  cannot  rede  ; and  for 
‘ignorance  of  which  he  suffers  death,  the  worst  death,  a 
4 spiritual.  What  are  your  Axioms,  and  Categories,  and 
4 Systems,  and  Aphorisms  ? Words,  words.  High  Air-castles 
‘are  cunningly  built  of  Words,  the  Words  well  bedded  also  in 
4 good  Logic-mortar  ; wherein,  however,  no  Knowledge  will 
4 come  to  lodge.  The  whole  is  greater  than  the  part : how  ex- 
ceedingly true  ! Nature  abhors  a vacuum  : how  exceedingly 
4 false  and  calumnious  ! Again,  Nothing  can  act  but  where  it 
4 is : with  all  my  heart ; only  where  is  it  ? Be  not  the  slave 
‘of  Words : is  not  the  Distant,  the  Dead,  while  I love  it,  and 
4 long  for  it,  and  mourn  for  it,  Here,  in  the  genuine  sense,  as 
4 truly  as  the  floor  I stand  on  ? But  that  same  Where,  with 
4 its  brother,  When,  are  from  the  first  the  master-colours  of 
4 


50 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ our  Dream-grotto  ; say  rather,  the  Canvass  (the  warp  and 
‘ woof  thereof)  whereon  all  our  Dreams  and  Life-visions  are 
‘ painted.  Nevertheless,  has  not  a deeper  meditation  taught 
‘ certain  of  every  climate  and  age,  that  the  Where  and  When, 
‘ so  mysteriously  inseparable  from  all  our  thoughts,  are  but 
‘ superficial  terrestrial  adhesions  to  thought ; that  the  Seer 
‘ may  discern  them  where  they  mount  up  out  of  the  celestial 
‘ Everywhere  and  Forever  : have  not  all  nations  conceived 
‘ their  God  as  Omnipresent  and  Eternal ; as  existing  in  a 
‘ universal  Here,  an  everlasting  Now  ? Think  well,  thou  too 
‘ wilt  find  that  Space  is  but  a mode  of  our  human  Sense,  so 
‘ likewise  Time  ; there  is  no  Space  and  no  Time  : We  are — 
‘ we  know  not  what  light-sparkles  floating  in  the  aether  of 
‘ Deity  ! 

‘So  that  this  so  solid-seeming  World,  after  all,  were  but  an 
‘ air-image,  our  Me  the  only  reality : and  Nature,  with  its 
‘ thousand-fold  production  and  destruction,  but  the  reflex  of 
‘ our  own  inward  Force,  the  “ phantasy  of  our  Dream  ; ” or 
‘what  the  Earth-Spirit  in  Faust  names  it,  the  living  visible 
‘ Garment  of  God. 

‘ “In  Being’s  floods,  in  Action’s  storm, 

I walk  and  work,  above,  beneath, 

Work  and  weave  in  endless  motion ! 

Birth  and  Death, 

An  infinite  ocean  ; 

A seizing  and  giving 
The  fire  of  the  Living  : 

’Tis  thus  at  the  roaring  Loom  of  Time  I ply, 

And  weave  for  God  the  Garment  thou  seest  Him  by.” 

‘ Of  twenty  millions  that  have  read  and  spouted  this  thunder- 
‘ speech  of  the  Erdgeist , are  there  yet  twenty  units  of  us  that 
‘ have  learned  the  meaning  thereof  ? 

‘ It  was  in  some  such  mood,  when  wearied  and  foredone 
‘ with  these  high  speculations,  that  I first  came  upon  the 
‘question  of  Clothes.  Strange  enough,  it  strikes  me,  is  this 
‘ same  fact  of  there  being  Tailors  and  Tailored.  The  Horse  I 
‘ ride  has  his  own  whole  fell : strip  him  of  the  girths  and  flaps 
‘ and  extraneous  tags  I have  fastened  round  him,  and  the 


THE  WORLD  OUT  OF  CLOTHES. 


51 


4 noble  creature  is  bis  own  sempster  and  weaver  and  spinner : 
4 nay  bis  own  bootmaker,  jeweller,  and  man-milliner ; be 
4 bounds  free  through  the  valleys,  with  a perennial  rainproof 
4 court  suit  on  bis  body  ; wherein  warmth  and  easiness  of  fit 
4 have  reached  perfection  ; nay,  the  graces  also  have  been  con- 
4 sidered,  and  frills  and  fringes,  with  gay  variety  of  colour, 
* featly  appended,  and  ever  in  the  right  place,  are  not  want- 
4 ing.  While  I — good  Heaven  ! — have  thatched  myself  over 
J with  the  dead  fleeces  of  sheep,  the  bark  of  vegetables,  the 
4 entrails  of  worms,  the  hides  of  oxen  or  seals,  the  felt  of 
4 furred  beasts  ; and  walk  abroad  a moving  Bag-screen,  over- 
4 heaped  with  shreds  and  tatters  raked  from  the  Charnel-house 
4 of  Nature,  where  they  would  have  rotted,  to  rot  on  me  more 
4 slowly ! Day  after  day,  I must  thatch  myself  anew  ; day 
4 after  day,  this  despicable  thatch  must  lose  some  film  of  its 
4 thickness ; some  film  of  it,  frayed  away  by  tear  and  wear, 
4 must  be  brushed  off  into  the  Ashpit,  into  the  Laystall ; till 
4 by  degrees  the  whole  has  been  brushed  thither,  and  I,  the 
4 dust-making,  patent  Bag-grinder,  get  new  material  to  grind 
4 down.  O subter-brutish  ! vile  ! most  vile  ! For  have  not  I 
4 too  a compact  all-enclosing  Skin,  whiter  or  dingier  ? Am  I 
4 a botched  mass  of  tailors’  and  cobblers’  shreds,  then  ; or  a 
4 tightly-articulated,  homogeneous  little  Figure,  automatic, 
4 nay  alive? 

‘Strange  enough  how  creatures  of  the  human-kind  shut 
4 their  eyes  to  plainest  facts  ; and  by  the  mere  inertia  of  Ob- 
4 livion  and  Stupidity,  live  at  ease  in  the  midst  of  Wonders 
4 and  Terrors.  But  indeed  man  is,  and  was  always,  a block- 
4 head  and  dullard  ; much  readier  to  feel  and  digest,  than  to 
4 think  and  consider.  Prejudice,  which  he  pretends  to  hate, 

4 is  his  absolute  lawgiver  ; mere  use-and-wont  everywhere 
4 leads  him  by  the  nose  : thus  let  but  a Bising  of  the  Sun, 
‘let  but  a Creation  of  the  World  happen  twice , and  it  ceases 
4 to  be  marvellous,  to  be  noteworthy,  or  noticeable.  Perhaps 
‘not  once  in  a lifetime  does  it  occur  to  your  ordinary  biped, 

4 of  any  country  or  generation,  be  he  gold-mantled  Prince  or 
4 russet-jerkined  Peasant,  that  his  Vestments  and  his  Self  are 
4 not  one  and  indivisible  ; that  he  is  naked,  without  vestments, 

UUiVtKSiTY  OF 
LIBRARY 


52 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ till  lie  buy  or  steal  such,  and  by  forethought  sew  and  button 
‘ them. 

‘For  my  own  part,  these  considerations,  of  our  Clothes- 
‘ thatch,  and  how,  reaching  inwards  even  to  our  heart  of 
‘ hearts,  it  tailorises  and  demoralises  us,  fill  me  with  a certain 
‘ horror  at  myself,  and  mankind  ; almost  as  one  feels  at  those 
‘Dutch  Cows,  which,  during  the  wet  season,  you  see  grazing 
‘ deliberately  with  jackets  and  petticoats  (of  striped  sacking), 
‘ in  the  meadows  of  Gouda.  Nevertheless  there  is  something 
‘ great  in  the  moment  when  a man  first  strips  himself  of  ad- 
‘ ventitious  wrappages  ; and  sees  indeed  that  he  is  naked, 
‘ and,  as  Swift  has  it,  “ a forked  straddling  animal  with  bandy 
‘ legs  yet  also  a Spirit,  and  unutterable  Mystery  of  Mys- 
‘ teries.’ 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ADAMITISM. 

Let  no  courteous  reader  take  offence  at  the  opinions 
broached  in  the  conclusion  of  the  last  Chapter.  The  Editor 
himself,  on  first  glancing  over  that  singular  passage,  was  in- 
clined to  exclaim  : What,  have  we  got  not  only  a Sansculot- 
tist,  but  an  enemy  to  Clothes  in  the  abstract?  A new 
Adamite,  in  this  century,  which  flatters  itself  that  it  is  the 
Nineteenth,  and  destructive  both  to  Superstition  and  En- 
thusiasm ? 

Consider,  thou  foolish  Teufelsdrockh,  what  benefits  un- 
speakable all  ages  and  sexes  derive  from.  Clothes.  For  ex- 
ample, when  thou  thyself,  a watery,  pulpy,  slobbery  fresh- 
man and  new-comer  in  this  Planet,  sattest  muling  and  puking 
in  thy  nurse’s  arms ; sucking  thy  coral,  and  looking  forth  into 
the  world  in  the  blankest  manner,  what  hadst  thou  been, 
without  thy  blankets,  and  bibs,  and  other  nameless  hulls? 
A terror  to  thyself  and  mankind  ! Or  hast  thou  forgotten  the 
day  when  thou  first  receivedst  breeches,  and  thy  long  clothes 
became  short  ? The  village  where  thou  livedst  was  all  ap- 
prized of  the  fact ; and  neighbour  after  neighbour  kissed  thy 
pudding-cheek,  and  gave  thee,  as  hansel,  silver  or  copper 


ADA  MITISM. 


53 


coins,  on  that  the  first  gala-day  of  thy  existence.  Again,  wert 
not  thou,  at  one  period  of  life,  a Buck,  or  Blood,  or  Macaroni, 
or  Incroyable,  or  Dandy,  or  by  whatever  name,  according  to 
year  and  place,  such  jDlienomenon  is  distinguished  ? In  that 
one  word  lie  included  mysterious  volumes.  Nay,  now  when 
the  reign  of  folly  is  over,  or  altered,  and  thy  clothes  are  not 
for  triumph  but  for  defence,  hast  thou  always  worn  them  per- 
force, and  as  a consequence  of  Man’s  Fall  ; never  rejoiced  in 
them  as  in  a warm  movable  House,  a Body  round  thy  Body, 
wherein  that  strange  Thee  of  thine  sat  snug,  defying  all  varia- 
tions of  Climate  ? Girt  with  thick  double-milled  kerseys ; 
half  buried  under  shawls  and  broadbrims,  and  overalls  and  ' 
mudboots,  thy  very  fingers  cased  in  doeskin  and  mittens,  thou 
hast  bestrode  that  ‘ Horse  I ride  ; ’ and,  though  it  were  in 
wild  winter,  dashed  through  the  world,  glorying  in  it  as  if 
thou  wert  its  lord.  In  vain  did  the  sleet  beat  round  thy  tem- 
ples ; it  lighted  only  on  thy  impenetrable,  felted  or  woven, 
case  of  wool.  In  vain  did  the  winds  howl, — forests  sound- 
ing and  creaking,  deep  calling  unto  deep, — and  the  storms 
heap  themselves  together  into  one  huge  Arctic  whirlpool ; 
thou  flewest  through  the  middle  thereof,  striking  fire  from 
the  highway  ; wild  music  hummed  in  thy  ears,  thou  too 
wert  as  a ‘ sailor  of  the  air  ; ’ the  wreck  of  matter  and  the 
crash  of  worlds  was  thy  element  and  propitiously  wafting  tide. 
Without  Clothes,  without  bit  or  saddle,  what  hadst  thou  been  ; 
what  had  thy  fleet  quadruped  been  ? — Nature  is  good,  but  she 
is  not  the  best ; here  truly  was  the  victory  of  Art  over  Nature. 

A thunderbolt  indeed  might  have  pierced  thee ; all  short  of 
this  thou  couldst  defy. 

Or,  cries  the  courteous  reader,  has  your  Teufelsdrockh  for- 
gotten what  he  said  lately  about  ‘Aboriginal  Savages,’  and 
their  ‘ condition  miserable  indeed  ? ’ Would  he  have  all  this 
unsaid  ; and  us  betake  ourselves  again  to  the  £ matted  cloak,’ 
and  go  sheeted  in  a 4 thick  natural  fell  ? ’ 

Nowise,  courteous  reader ! The  Professor  knows  full  well 
what  he  is  saying  ; and  both  thou  and  we,  in  our  haste,  do 
him  wrong.  If  Clothes,  in  these  times,  ‘ so  tailorise  and  de- 
moralise us/  have  they  no  redeeming  value  ; can  they  not  ba 


54 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


altered  to  serve  better  ; must  they  of  necessity  be  thrown  ta 
the  dogs  ? The  truth  is,  Teufelsdrockh,  though  a Sansculot- 
tist,  is  no  Adamite : and  much  perhaps  as  he  might  wish  to 
go  forth  before  this  degenei*ate  age,  4 as  a Sign,’  would  nowise 
wish  to  do  it,  as  those  old  Adamites  did,  in  a state  of  Naked- 
ness. The  utility  of  Clothes  is  altogether  apparent  to  him  : 
nay  perhaps  he  has  an  insight  into  their  more  recondite,  and 
almost  mystic  qualities,  what  we  might  call  the  omnipotent 
virtue  of  Clothes,  such  as  was  never  before  vouchsafed  to  any 
man.  For  example  : 

‘You  see  two  individuals,5  he  writes,  ( one  dressed  in  fine 
‘ Red,  the  other  in  coarse  threadbare  Blue  : Bed  says  to  Blue, 
4 “ Be  hanged  and  anatomised  ; 55  Blue  hears  with  a shudder, 

* and  (0  wonder  of  wonders !)  marches  sorrowfully  to  the  gal- 
lows ; is  there  noosed  up,  vibrates  his  hour,  and  the  sur- 
‘ geons  dissect  him,  and  fit  his  bones  into  a skeleton  for  medi- 
‘ cal  purposes.  How  is  this  ; or  what  make  ye  of  your  Nothing 
‘ can  act  hut  where  it  is  ? Red  has  no  physical  hold  of  Blue,  no 

* clutch  of  him,  is  nowise  in  contact  with  him  : neither  are 
‘ those  ministering  Sheriffs  and  Lord  Lieutenants  and  Hang- 

* men  and  Tipstaves  so  related  to  commanding  Red,  that  he 
‘ can  tug  them  hither  and  thither  ; but  each  stands  distinct 
c within  his  own  skin.  Nevertheless,  as  it  is  spoken,  so  it  is 
‘ done  : the  articulated  Word  sets  all  hands  in  Action ; and 
‘ Rope  and  Improved-drop  perform  their  work. 

‘ Thinking  reader,  the  reason  seems  to  me  twofold  : First, 
4 that  Man  is  a Spirit , and  bound  by  invisible  bonds  to  All 
4 Men  : Secondly,  that  he  wears  Clothes,  which  are  the  visible 
4 emblems  of  that  fact.  Has  not  your  Red  hanging-individual 
4 a horsehair  wig,  squirrel-skins,  and  a plush  gown  ; whereby 
4 all  mortals  know  that  he  is  a Judge  ? — Society,  which  the 
4 more  I think  of  it  astonishes  me  the  more,  is  founded  upon 
4t  Cloth. 

4 Often  in  my  atrabiliar  moods,  when  I read  of  pompous 
4 ceremonials,  Frankfort  Coronations,  Royal  Drawing-rooms, 
4 Levees,  Couchees  ; and  how  the  ushers  and  macers  and  pur- 
4 suivants  are  all  in  waiting  ; how  Duke  this  is  presented  by 
4 Archduke  that,  and  Colonel  A by  General  B,  and  innumera- 


ADAMITISM. 


55 


4 ble  Bishops,  Admirals,  and  miscellaneous  Functionaries,  are 
4 advancing  gallantly  to  the  Anointed  Presence  ; and  I strive, 
4 in  my  remote  privacy,  to  form  a clear  picture  of  that  solem- 
£ nity, — on  a sudden,  as  by  some  enchanter’s  wand,  the — shall 
4 I speak  it  ? — the  Clothes  fly  off  the  whole  dramatic  corps  ; 

* and  Dukes,  Grandees,  Bishops,  Generals,  Anointed  Presence 
4 itself,  every  mother’s  son  of  them,  stand  straddling  there, 
4 not  a shirt  on  them  ; and  I know  not  whether  to  laugh  or 
4 weep.  This  physical  or  psychical  infirmity,  in  which  perhaps 
4 I am  not  singular,  I have,  after  hesitation,  thought  right  to 

* publish,  for  the  solace  of  those  afflicted  with  the  like/ 

Would  to  Heaven,  say  we,  thou  hadst  thought  right  to  keep 
it  secret ! Who  is  there  now  that  can  read  the  five  columns  of 
Presentations  in  his  Morning  Newspaper  without  a shudder  ? 
Hypochondriac  men,  and  all  men  are  to  a certain  extent  hypo- 
chondriac, should  be  more  gently  treated.  "With  what  readi- 
ness our  fancy,  in  this  shattered  state  of  the  nerves,  follows 
out  the  consequences  which  Teufelsdrockh,  with  a devilish 
coolness,  goes  on  to  draw  : 

4 What  would  Majesty  do,  could  such  an  acpidejit  befall  in 
4 reality  ; should  the  buttons  all  simultaneously  start,  and  the 
4 solid  wool  evaporate,  in  very  Deed,  as  here  in  Dream?  Ach 
4 Gott ! How  each  skulks  into  the  nearest  hiding-place  ; their 
4 high  State  Tragedy  ( Haupt-und  Staats-Action)  becomes  a 
4 Pickleherring  Farce  to  weep  at,  which  is  the  worst  kind  of 
4 Farce  ; the  tables  (according  to  Horace),  and  with  them,  the 
4 whole  fabric  of  Government,  Legislation,  Property,  Police, 
4 and  Civilized  Society,  are  dissolved , in  wails,  and  howls/ 

Lives  the  man  that  can  figure  a naked  Duke  of  Windlestraw 
addressing  a naked  House  of  Lords  ? Imagination,  choked  as 
in  mephitic  air,  recoils  on  itself,  and  will  not  forward  with 
the  picture.  The  Woolsack,  the  Ministerial,  the  Opposition 
Benches — infandum  ! infandum  ! And  yet  why  is  the  thing 
impossible  ? Was  not  every  soul,  or  rather  everybody,  of  these 
Guardians  of  our  Liberties,  naked,  or  nearly  so,  last  night ; 
4 a forked  Radish  with  a head  fantastically  carved  ? And  why 
might  he  not,  did  our  stern  Fate  so  order  it,  walk  out  to  St. 
Stephen’s,  as  well  as  into  bed,  in  that  no-fashion  ; and  there, 


56 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


with  other  similar  Radishes,  hold  a Bed  of  Justice  ? c Solace 
of  those  afflicted  with  the  like  ! ’ Unhappy  Teufelsdrockh,  had 
man  ever  such  a ‘ physical  or  psychical  infirmity ’ before  ? 
And  now  how  many,  perhaps,  may  thy  unparalleled  confession 
(which  we,  even  to  the  sounder  British  world,  and  goaded  on 
by  Critical  and  Biographical  duty,  grudge  to  re-impart)  in- 
curably infect  therewith ! Art  thou  the  malignest  of  Sans- 
culottists,  or  only  the  maddest  ? 

‘ It  will  remain  to  be  examined,’  adds  the  inexorable  Teufels- 
drockh, ‘ in  how  far  the  Scarecrow,  as  a Clothed  Person,  is  not 
5 also  entitled  to  benefit  of  clergy,  and  English  trial  by  jury : 
* nay  perhaps,  considering  his  high  function  (for  is  not  he  too 
‘ a defender  of  Property,  and  Sovereign  armed  with  the  terrors 
‘ of  the  Law  ?),  to  a certain  royal  Immunity  and  Inviolability  ; 
‘ which,  however,  misers  and  the  meaner  class  of  persons  are 
‘ not  always  voluntarily  disposed  to  grant  him.’  * * 

* * ‘O  my  friends,  we  are  (in  Torick  Sterne’s  words)  but 

‘ as  “ turkeys  driven,  with  a stick  and  red  clout,  to  the  market ; ” 
€ or  if  some  drivers,  as  they  do  in  Norfolk,  take  a dried  bladder 
‘ and  put  peas  in  it,  the  rattle  thereof  terrifies  the  boldest ! ’ 


CHAPTER  X. 

PURE  REASON. 

It  must  now  be  apparent  enough  that  our  Professor,  as 
above  hinted,  is  a speculative  Radical,  and  of  the  very  darkest 
tinge  ; acknowledging,  for  most  part,  in  the  solemnities  and 
paraphernalia  of  civilised  Life,  which  we  make  so  much  of, 
nothing  but  so  many  Cloth-rags,  turkey-poles,  and  c bladders 
with  dried  peas.’  To  linger  among  such  speculations,  longer 
than  mere  Science  requires,  a discerning  public  can  have  no 
wish.  Eor  our  purposes  the  simple  fact  that  such  a Naked 
World  is  possible,  nay  actually  exists  (under  the  Clothed  one), 
will  be  sufficient.  Much,  therefore,  we  omit  about  ‘Kings 
wrestling  naked  on  the  green  with  Carmen,’  and  the  Kings 
being  thrown  : ‘ dissect  them  with  scalpels,’  says  Teufels- 
drockh ; ‘ the  same  viscera,  tissues,  livers,  lights,  and  other 


PURE  REASON. 


57 


c Life-tackle  are  there  : examine  their  spiritual  mechanism ; 
‘ the  same  great  Need,  great  Greed,  and  little  Faculty  ; nay 
‘ ten  to  one  but  the  Carman,  who  understands  draught-cattle, 
‘ the  rimming  of  wheels,  something  of  the  laws  of  unstable 
‘ and  stable  equilibrium,  with  other  branches  of  wagon-sci- 
‘ ence,  and  has  actually  put  forth  his  hand  and  operated  on 
‘ Nature,  is  the  more  cunningly  gifted  of  the  two.  Whence, 
‘ then,  their  so  unspeakable  difference  ? From  Clothes.’ 
Much  also  we  shall  omit  about  confusion  of  Ranks,  and  Joan 
and  My  Lady,  and  how  it  would  be  every  where  ‘Hail  fellow 
well  met,’  and  Chaos  were  come  again : all  which  to  any  one 
that  has  once  fairly  pictured  out  the  grand  mother-idea,  So- 
ciety in  a state  of  Nakedness , will  spontaneously  suggest  itself. 
Should  some  sceptical  individual  still  entertain  doubts  whether 
in  a world  without  Clothes,  the  smallest  Politeness,  Polity,  or 
even  Police,  could  exist,  let  him  turn  to  the  original  Volume, 
and  view  there  the  boundless  Serbonian  Bogs  of  Sansculot- 


tism,  stretching  sour  and  pestilential:  over  which  we  have 
lightly  flown  ; where  not  only  whole  armies  but  whole  nations 
might  sink  ! If  indeed  the  following  argument,  in  its  brief 
riveting  emphasis,  be  not  of  itself  incontrovertible  and  final : 

£ Are  we  Opossums  ; have  we  natural  Pouches,  like  the 
‘ Kangaroo  ? Or  how,  without  Clothes,  could  we  possess  the 
‘ master-organ,  soul’s-seat,  and  true  pineal  gland  of  the  Body 
4 Social : I mean,  a Purse  ? ’ 

Nevertheless  it  is  impossible  to  hate  Professor  Teufels- 
drockli ; at  worst,  one  knows  not  whether  to  hate  or  to  love 
him.  For  though  in  looking  at  the  fair  tapestry  of  human 
Life,  with  its  royal  and  even  sacred  figures,  he  dwells  not  on 
the  obverse  alone,  but  here  chiefly  on  the  reverse ; and  in- 
deed turns  out  the  rough  seams,  tatters,  and  manifold  thrums 
of  that  unsightly  wrong-side,  with  an  almost  diabolic  patience 
and  indifference,  which  must  have  sunk  him  in  the  estimation 
of  most  readers, — there  is  that  within  which  unspeakably 
distinguishes  him  from  all  other  past  and  present  Sansculot- 
tists.  The  grand  unparalleled  peculiarity  of  Teufelsdrockh 
is,  that  with  all  this  Descendentalism,  he  combines  a Transcen- 
dentalism, no  less  superlative  ; whereby  if  on  the  one  hand 


58 


SARTOR  RE8ARTUS. 


he  degrade  man  below  most  animals,  except  those  jacketed 
Gouda  Cows,  he,  on  the  other,  exalts  him  beyond  the  visible 
Heavens,  almost  to  an  equality  with  the  gods. 

‘To  the  eye  of  vulgar  Logic/  says  he,  ‘what  is  man?  An 
‘ omnivorous  Biped  that  wears  Breeches.  To  the  eye  of  Pure 
‘ Reason  what  is  he  ? A soul,  a Spirit,  and  divine  Apparition. 
‘ Bound  his  mysterious  Me,  there  lies,  under  all  those  wool- 
4 rags,  a Garment  of  Flesh  (or  of  Senses),  contextured  in  the 
‘ Loom  of  Heaven  ; whereby  he  is  revealed  to  his  like,  and 
‘ dwells  with  them  in  Union  and  Division  ; and  sees  and  fash- 
‘ ions  for  himself  a Universe,  with  azure  Starry  Spaces,  and 
‘long  Thousands  of  Years.  Deep-hidden  is  he  under  that 
‘ strange  Garment ; amid  Sounds  and  Colours  and  Forms,  as 
4 it  were,  swathed  in,  and  inextricably  overshrouded : yet  it 
‘ is  skywoven,  and  worthy  of  a God.  Stands  he  not  thereby 
‘in  the  centre  of  Immensities,  in  the  conflux  of  Eternities? 
‘ He  feels  ; power  has  been  given  him  to  know,  to  believe ; 
‘ nay  does  not  the  spirit  of  Love,  free  in  its  celestial  primeval 
‘brightness,  even  here,  though  but  for  moments  look  through? 
‘ Well  said  Saint  Chrysostom,  with  his  lips  of  gold,  “ the  true 
‘ Shekinah  is  Man  : ” where  else  is  the  God’s-Presence  mani- 
4 fested  not  to  our  eyes  only,  but  to  our  hearts,  as  in  our  fel- 
< low  man  ? ’ 

In  such  passages,  unhappily  too  rare,  the  high  Platonic 
Mysticism  of  our  Author,  which  is  perhaps  the  fundamental 
element  of  his  nature,  bursts  forth,  as  it  were,  in  full  flood  ; 
and,  through  all  the  vapour  and  tarnish  of  what  is  often  so 
perverse,  so  mean  in  his  exterior  and  environment,  we  seem 
to  look  into  a whole  inward  Sea  of  Light  and  Love  ; — though, 
alas,  the  grim  coppery  clouds  soon  roll  together  again,  and 
hide  it  from  view. 

Such  tendency  to  Mysticism  is  everywhere  traceable  in  this 
man  ; and  indeed,  to  attentive  readers,  must  have  been  long- 
ago  apparent.  Nothing  that  he  sees  but  has  more  than  a 
common  meaning,  but  has  two  meanings  : thus,  if  in  the 
highest  Imperial  Sceptre  and  Charlemagn e-Mantle,  as  well  as 
in  the  poorest  Ox-goad  and  Gipsy-Blanket,  he  finds  Prose, 
Decay,  Contemptibility  ; there  is  in  each  sort  Poetry  also, 


PURE  REASON. 


59 


and  a reverend  Worth.  For  Matter*  were  it  never  so  despic- 
able, is  Spirit,  the  maqifestation  of  Spirit : were  it  never  so 
honourable,  can  it  be  more  ? The  thing  Visible,  nay  the 
thing  Imagined,  the  thing  in  any  way  conceived  as  Visible, 
What  is  it  but  a Garment,  a Clothing  of  the  higher,  celestial 
invisible,  ‘ unimaginable,  formless,  dark  with  excess  of  bright  ? ’ 
Under  which  point  of  view  the  following  passage,  so  strange 
in  purport,  so  strange  in  phrase,  seems  characteristic  enough  : 

‘ The  beginningof  all  Wisdom  is  to  look  fixedly  on  Clothes, 
‘ or  even  with  armed  eyesight,  till  they  become  transparent. 
‘ “ The  Philosopher,”  says  the  wisest  of  this  age,  “ must  sta- 
‘ tion  himself  in  the  middle  : ” how  true  ! The  Philosopher 
‘ is  he  to  whom  the  Highest  has  descended,  and  the  Lowest 
‘ has  mounted  up  ; who  is  the  equal  and  kindly  brother  of 

* all. 

‘ Shall  we  tremble  before  clothwebs  and  cobwebs,  whether 
‘ woven  in  Arkwright  looms,  or  by  the  silent  Arachnes  that 
‘ weave  unrestingly  in  our  Imagination  ? Or,  on  the  other 

* hand,  what  is  there  that  we  cannot  love  ; since  all  was  cre- 
‘ ated  by  God  ? 

4 Happy  he  who  can  look  through  the  Clothes  of  a Man 
‘ (the  woollen,  and  fleshly,  and  official  Bank-paper,  and  State- 

* paper  Clothes),  into  the  Man  himself ; and  discern,  it  may 
‘ be,  in  this  or  the  other  Dread  Potentate,  a more  or  less  in- 
‘ competent  Digestive-apparatus  ; yet  also  an  inscrutable  ven- 
‘ erable  Mystery,  in  the  meanest  Tinker  that  sees  with  eyes ! ’ 

For  the  rest,  as  is  natural  to  a man  of  this  kind,  he  deals 
much  in  the  feeling  of  Wonder  ; insists  on  the  necessity  and 
high  worth  of  universal  Wonder  ; which  he  holds  to  be  the 
only  reasonable  temper  for  the  denizen  of  so  singular  a Planet 
as  ours.  c Wonder/ says  he,  ‘is  the  basis  of  Worship:  the 
‘ reign  of  wonder  is  perennial,  indestructible  in  Man  ; only  at 
‘ certain  stages  (as  the  present),  it  is,  for  some  short  season, 
‘ a reign  in  partibus  infidelium / That  progress  of  Science, 
which  is  to  destroy  Wonder,  and  in  its  stead  substitute  Men- 
suration and  Numeration,  finds  small  favour  with  Teufels- 
drockh,  much  as  he  otherwise  venerates  these  two  latter 
processes. 


60 


SARTOR  RESARTTJS. 


‘Shall  your  Science/  exclaims  lie,  ‘proceed  in  the  small 
‘ chink  lighted,  or  even  oil-lighted,  underground  workshop  of 
‘ Logic  alone  ; and  man’s  mind  become  an  Arithmetical  Mill, 
‘ whereof  Memory  is  the  Hopper,  and  mere  Tables  of  Sines 
‘ and  Tangents,  Codification,  and  Treatises  of  what  you  call 
‘ Political  Economy,  are  the  Meal  ? And  what  is  that  Science, 
‘ which  the  scientific  head  alone,  were  it  screwed  off,  and  (like 
‘ the  Doctor’s  in  the  Arabian  Tale)  set  in  a basin,  to  keep  it 
‘alive,  could  persecute  without  shadow  of  a heart, — but  one 
‘ other  of  the  mechanical  and  menial  handicrafts,  for  which 
‘ the  Scientific  Head  (having  a Soul  in  it)  is  too  noble  an  or- 
‘ gan  ? I mean  that  Thought  without  Reverence  is  barren, 
‘ perhaps  poisonous  ; at  best,  dies  like  cookery  with  the  day 
‘ that  called  it  forth  ; does  not  live,  like  sowing,  in  successive 
‘ tilths  and  wider-spreading  harvests,  bringing  food  and  plen- 
‘ teous  increase  to  all  Time.’ 

In  such  wise  does  Teufelsdrockh  deal  hits,  harder  or  softer, 
according  to  ability ; yet  ever,  as  we  would  fain  persuade 
ourselves,  with  charitable  intent.  Above  all,  that  class  of 
‘ Logic-choppers,  and  treble-pipe  Scoffers,  and  professed  Ene- 
‘ mies  to  Wonder  ; who,  in  these  days,  so  numerously  patrol 
‘ as  night-constables  about  the  Mechanics’  Institute  of  Science, 

‘ and  cackle,  like  true  Old-Roman  geese  and  goslings  round 
‘ their  Capitol,  on  any  alarm,  or  on  none  ; nay  who  often,  as 
‘ illuminated  Sceptics  walk  abroad  into  peaceable  society,  in 
‘ full  daylight,  with  rattle  and  lantern,  and  insist  on  guiding 
‘ you  and  guarding  you  therewith,  though  the  Sun  is  shining, 

‘ and  the  street  populous  with  mere  justice-loving  men  : ’ that 
whole  class  is  inexpressibly  wearisome  to  him.  Hear  with 
what  uncommon  animation  he  perorates  : 

‘ The  man  who  cannot  wonder,  who  does  not  habitually 
‘wonder  (and  worship),  were  he  President  of  innumerable 
‘ Royal  Societies,  and  carried  the  whole  Mecanique  Celeste  and 
‘ Hegel's  Philosophy , and  the  epitome  of  all  Laboratories  and 
‘ Observatories  with  their  results,  in  his  single  head, — is  but 
‘ a Pair  of  Spectacles  behind  which  there  is  no  Eye.  Let 
‘those  who  have  Eyes  look  through  him,  then  he  may  be 
‘ useful. 


PROSPECTIVE. 


61 


‘Thou  wilt  have  no  Mystery  and  Mysticism  ; wilt  walk 
‘through  thy  world  by  the  sunshine  of  what  thou  callest 
‘ Truth,  or  even  by  the  hand-lamp  of  what  I call  Attorney- 
‘ Logic  ; and  “ explain  ” all,  “ account  ” for  all,  or  believe 
‘ nothing  of  it  ? Nay,  thou  wilt  attempt  laughter ; whoso 
‘recognizes  the  unfathomable,  all-pervading  domain  of  Mys- 
6 tery,  which  is  everywhere  under  our  feet  and  among  our 
‘ hands  ; to  whom  the  Universe  is  an  Oracle  and  Temple,  as 
‘ well  as  a Kitchen  and  Cattle-stall, — he  shall  be  a delirious 
‘Mystic ; to  him  thou,  with  sniffing  charity,  wilt  protrusively 
‘ proffer  thy  hand-lamp,  and  shriek,  as  one  injured,  when  he 
‘kicks  his  foot  through  it? — Armer  Teufel!  Doth  not  thy 
‘ cow  calve,  doth  not  thy  bull  gender  ? Tliou  thyself,  wert 
‘ thou  not  born,  wilt  thou  not  die  ? “ Explain  ” me  all  this, 

‘ or  do  one  of  two  things  : Ketire  into  private  places  with  thy 
‘ foolish  cackle ; or,  what  were  better,  give  it  up,  and  wreep, 
‘ not  that  the  reign  of  wonder  is  done,  and  God’s  world  all 
‘ disembellished  and  prosaic,  but  that  thou  hitherto  art  a 
‘ Dilettante  and  sandblind  Pedant.’ 


CHATTEL  XI. 

PROSPECTIVE. 

The  Philosophy  of  Clothes  is  now  to  all  readers,  as  we  pre- 
dicated it  would  do,  unfolding  itself  into  new  boundless  ex- 
pansions, of  a cloudcapt,  almost  chimerical  aspect,  yet  not 
♦without  azure  loomings  in  the  far  distance,  and  streaks  as  of 
an  Elysian  brightness  ; the  highly  questionable  purport  and 
promise  of  which  it  is  becoming  more  and  more  important  for 
us  to  ascertain.  Is  that  a real  Elysian  brightness,  cries  many 
a timid  wayfarer,  or  the  reflex  of  Pandemonian  lava  ? Is  it  of 
a truth  leading  us  into  beatific  Asphodel  meadows,  or  the 
yellow-burning  marl  of  a Hell-on-Earth  ? 

Our  Professor,  like  other  Mystics,  whether  delirious  or  in- 
spired, gives  an  Editor  enough  to  do.  Ever  higher  and  dizzier 
are  the  heights  he  leads  us  to  ; more  piercing,  all-compre- 
hending, all-confounding  are  his  views  and  glances.  For  ex- 
ample, this  of  Nature  being  not  an  Aggregate  but  a Whole  : 


62 


SARTOR  RESARTU8. 


* Well  sang  the  Hebrew  Psalmist : “ If  I take  the  wings  ot 
£ the  morning  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  universe, 
£ God  is  there.”  Thou  too,  O cultivated  reader,  who  too  prob- 
* ably  art  no  Psalmist,  but  a Prosaist,  knowing  God  only  by 
‘ tradition,  knowest  thou  any  corner  of  the  world  where  at 
‘ least  Force  is  not  ? The  drop  which  thou  shakest  from  thy 
£ wet  hand,  rests  not  where  it  falls,  but  to-morrow  thou  findest 
£ it  swept  away  ; already,  on  the  wings  of  the  Northwind,  it  is 
£ nearing  the  Tropic  of  Cancer.  How  came  it  to  evaporate, 
£ and  not  lie  motionless  ? Thinkest  thou  there  is  aught 
£ motionless  ; without  Force  and  utterly  dead  ? 

£ As  I rode  through  the  Schwarzwald,  I said  to  myself  : 
£ That  little  fire  which  glows  star-like  across  the  dark-growing 
£ ( nachtende ) moor,  where  the  sooty  smith  bends  over  his  anvil, 
£ and  thou  liopest  to  replace  thy  lost  horse-shoe, — is  it  a de- 
£ tached,  separated  speck,  cut  off  from  the  whole  Universe  ; or 
£ indissolubly  joined  to  the  whole  ? Thou  fool,  that  smithy- 
£ fire  was  (primarily)  kindled  at  the  Sun  ; is  fed  by  air  that 
£ circulates  from  before  Noah’s  Deluge,  from  beyond  the  Dog- 
£ star  ; therein,  with  Iron  Force,  and  Coal  Force,  and  the  far 
£ stranger  Force  of  Man,  are  cunning  affinities  and  battles  and 
£ victories  of  Force  brought  about : it  is  a little  ganglion,  or 
£ nervous  centre,  in  the  great  vital  system  of  Immensity.  Call 
£ it,  if  thou  wilt,  an  unconscious  Altar,  kindled  on  the  bosom  of 
£ the  All ; whose  iron  sacrifice,  whose  iron  smoke  and  influ- 
£ ence  reach  quite  through  the  All ; whose  Dingy  Priest,  not 
£ by  word,  yet  by  brain  and  sinew,  preaches  forth  the  mysterj 
£ of  Force  ; nay  preaches  forth  (exoterically  enough)  one  little 
£ textlet  from  the  Gospel  of  Freedom,  the  Gospel  of  Man’s 
£ Force,  commanding,  and  one  day  to  be  all-commanding. 

£ Detached,  separated  ! I say  there  is  no  such  separation  : 
£ nothing  hitherto  was  ever  stranded,  cast  aside  ; but  all, 
£ were  it  only  a withered  leaf,  works  together  with  all ; is 
£ borne  forward  on  the  bottomless,  shoreless  flood  of  Action, 
£ and  lives  through  perpetual  metamorphoses.  The  withered 
£ leaf  is  not  dead  and  lost,  there  are  Forces  in  it  and  around 
£ it,  though  working  in  inverse  order  ; else  how  could  it  rot  ? 
£ Despise  not  the  rag  from  which  man  makes  Paper,  or  the 


PROSPECTIVE . 


63 


« litter  frohi  which  the  Earth  makes  Corn.  Bightly  viewed 
‘ no  meanest  object  is  insignificant ; al]  objects  are  as  windows, 
‘ through  which  the  philosophic  eye  looks  into  Infinitude 
4 itself.’ 

Again,  leaving  that  wondrous  Schwarzwald  Smithy-Altar, 
what  vacant,  high-sailing  air-ships  are  these,  and  whither  will 
they  sail  with  us? 

4 All  visible  things  are  Emblems  ; what  thou  seest  is  not 
4 there  on  its  own  account  ; strictly  taken,  is  not  there  at  all : 
4 Matter  exists  only  spiritually,  and  to  represent  some  Idea, 
4 and  body  it  forth.  Hence  Clothes,  as  despicable  as  we  think 
4 them,  are  so  unspeakably  significant.  Clothes,  from  the 
4 King’s  mantle  downwards,  are  Emblematic,  not  of  want  only, 
4 but  of  a manifold  cunning  Victory  over  Want.  On  the  other 
4 hand,  all  Emblematic  things  are  properly  Clothes,  thought- 
4 woven  or  hand^woven  : must  not  the  Imagination  weave  Gar- 
4 ments,  visible  Bodies,  wherein  the  else  invisible  creations 
4 and  inspirations  of  our  Beason  are,  like  Spirits,  revealed,  and 
4 first  become  all-powerful ; — the  rather  if,  as  we  often  see, 
4 the  Hand  too  aid  her,  and  (by  wool  Clothes  or  otherwise)  re- 
4 veal  such  even  to  the  outward  eye  ? 

4 Men  are  properly  said  to  be  clothed  with  Authority, 
4 clothed  with  Beauty,  with  Curses,  and  the  like.  Nay,  if 
4 you  consider  it,  what  is  Man  himself,  and  his  whole  ter- 
4 restrial  Life,  but  an  Emblem  ; a Clothing  or  visible  Gar- 
4 ment  for  that  divine  Me  of  his,  cast  hither,  like  a light- 
4 particle,  down  from  Heaven  ? Thus  is  he  said  also  to  be 
4 clothed  with  a Body. 

4 Language  is  called  the  Garment  of  Thought : however, 

4 it  should  rather  be,  Language  is  the  Flesh-Garment,  the 
4 Body,  of  Thought.  I said  that  Imagination  wove  this 
4 Flesh-Garment ; and  does  she  not  ? Metaphors  are  her 
4 stuff : examine  Language ; what,  if  you  except  some  few 
4 primitive  elements  (of  natural  sound),  what  is  it  all  but 
4 Metaphors,  recognised  as  such,  or  no  longer  recognised : 
4 still  fluid  and  florid,  or  now  solid-grown  and  colourless? 
4 If  those  same  primitive  elements  are  the  osseous  fixtures 
4 in  the  Flesh-Garment,  Language,-^then  are  Metaphors  its 


64: 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


c muscles  and  tissues  and  living  integuments.  An  unmeta- 
4 phorical  style  you  shall  in  vain  seek  for : is  not  your  very 
e Attention  a Stretching-to  ? The  difference  lies  here  : some 
4 styles  are  lean,  adust,  wiry,  the  muscle  itself  seems  osseous ; 
4 some  are  even  quite  pallid,  hunger-bitten,  and  dead-look- 
* ing ; while  others  again  glow  in  the  flush  of  health  and 
4 vigorous  self-growth,  sometimes  (as  in  my  own  case)  not 
4 without  an  apoplectic  tendency.  Moreover,  there  are  sham 
4 Metaphors,  which  overhanging  that  same  Thought’s-Body 
c (best  naked),  and  deceptively  bedizening,  or  bolstering  it 
4 out,  may  be  called  its  false  stuffings,  superfluous  show- 
4 cloaks  ( Putz-Mdntel ),  and  tawdry  woolen  rags  ; whereof  he 
4 that  runs  and  reads  may  gather  whole  hampers, — and  burn 
4 them.’ 

Than  which  paragraph  on  Metaphors  did  the  reader  ever 
chance  to  see  a more  surprisingly  metaphorical  ? However, 
that  is  not  our  chief  grievance  ; the  Professor  continues  : 

4 Why  multiply  instances  ? It  is  written,  the  Heavens  and 
4 the  Earth  shall  fade  away  like  a Vesture  ; which  indeed 
4 they  are  : the  Time-vesture  of  the  External.  "Whatsoever 
4 sensibly  exists,  whatsoever  represents  Spirit  to  Spirit,  is 
4 properly  a Clothing,  a suit  of  Baiment,  put  on  for  a season, 

4 and  to  be  laid  off.  Thus  in  this  one  pregnant  subject  of 
4 Clothes,  rightly  understood,  is  included  all  that  men  have 
4 thought,  dreamed,  done  and  been  : the  whole  External  Uni- 
4 verse  and  what  it  holds  is  but  Clothing ; and  the  essence 
4 of  all  Science  lies  in  the  Philosophy  of  Clothes.’ 

Towards  these  dim  infinitely-expanded  regions,  close-bor- 
dering on  the  impalpable  Inane,  it  is  not  without  apprehen- 
sion, and  perpetual  difficulties,  that  the  Editor  sees  himself 
journeying  and  struggling.  Till  lately  a cheerful  daystar  of 
hope  hung  before  him,  in  the  expected  Aid  of  Hofrath 
Heuschrecke ; which  daystar,  however,  melts  now,  not  into 
the  red  of  morning,  but  into  a vague,  gray  half-light,  uncer- 
tain whether  dawn  of  day  or  dusk  of  utter  darkness.  For 
the  last  week,  these  so-called  Biographical  Documents  are 
in  his  hand.  By  the  kindness  of  a Scottish  Hamburg  Mer- 
chant, whose  name,  known  to  the  whole  mercantile  world, 


PE0SPECT1 VE. 


65 


lie  must  not  mention ; but  whose  honourable  courtesy,  now 
and  often  before  spontaneously  manifested  to  him,  a mere 
literary  stranger,  he  cannot  soon  forget, — the  bulky  Weiss- 
mchtwo  Packet,  with  all  its  Customhouse  seals,  foreion  hiero- 
glyphs, and  miscellaneous  tokens  of  Travel,  arrived° here  in 
perfect  safety,  and  free  of  cost.  The  reader  shall  now  fancy 
with  what  hot  haste  it  was  broken  up,  with  what  breathless 
expectation  glanced  over ; and,  alas,  with  what  unquiet  dis- 
appointment it  has,  since  then,  been  often  thrown  down  and 
again  taken  up.  5 

Hofrath  Ideuschrecke,  in  a too  long-winded  Letter  full 
of  compliments,  Weissniclitwo  politics,  dinners,  dining  rep- 
artees, and  other  ephemeral  trivialities,  proceeds  to  remind 

US?f  We  ,knew  wel1  already : that  however  it  may  be 

with  Metaphysics,  and  other  abstract  Science  originating 
m the  Head  ( Verstand)  alone,  no  Life  Philosophy  (Lebens- 
philosopliie),  such  as  this  of  Clothes  pretends  to  be  which 
originates  equally  in  the  Character  ( Gemilth ),  and  equally 
speaks  thereto,  can  attain  its  significance  till  the  Character 

‘W  iwiTnVU  aJ,ld  S6en;  <tU1  tlie  Author’s  View  of  the 
, , 01  {Weltansicht),  and  how  he  actively  and  passively  came 

. ,by  "Uch  are  clear  ••  “»  short  till  a Biography  of  him 
has  been  philosophico-poetically  written,  and  philosophico- 

^ l16’  ‘Were  the  speculative 
scientific  Truth  even  known,  you  still,  in  this  inquiring  age 

. aSkf  yT+6  ’ .fhenCG  Came  ^ and  Why,  and  How?-and 
. r6Sfc  n0t)  tin’  lf,no  better  maJ  be,  Fancy  have  shaped  out 
. an  ans^er  5 and  either  in  the  authentic  lineaments  of  Fact 

, °r  ,th®f°frged  °n“  °f  Ficti°n’  a COmPlete  P^ture  and  Genet- 
. ,1Ca,  HlSt01'y  °i  the  Man  and  bis  spiritual  Endeavour  lies 
before  you  But  why,’  says  the  Hofrath,  and  indeed  say 
* ’ , d°  1 dllate  011  the  uses  of  our  Teufelsdrockh’s  Bioo-- 
iaphy  The  great  Herr  Minister  von  Goethe  has  pene- 
. tlia  mg  y remarked  that  “Man  is  properly  the  only  object 
, tha*  interests  man  thus  I too  have  noted,  that  in  Weiss- 
, ?T^°  °m:  wholf  conversation  is  little  or  nothing  else 
. ,at  Bl°fraphy  °f  Autobiography ; ever  humano-anecdotical 
(.  enschlich-anecdotiscn).  Biography  is  by  nature  the  most 
5 


66 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


c universally  profitable,  universally  pleasant  of  all  things : 
‘ especially  Biography  of  distinguished  individuals. 

‘By  this  time,  mein  Verehrtester  (my  Most  Esteemed)/  com 
tinues  he,  with  an  eloquence  which,  unless  the  words  be  pui% 
loined  from  Teufelsdrockh,  or  some  trick  of  his,  as  we  sus- 
pect, is  well  nigh  unaccountable,  ‘ by  this  time  you  are  fairly 
‘plunged  ( vertieft ) in  that  mighty  forest  of  Clothes-Philosophy; 
‘and  looking  round,  as  all  readers  do,  with  astonishment 
‘ enough.  Such  portions  and  passages  as  you  have  already 
‘mastered,  and  brought  to  paper,  could  not  but  awaken  a 
‘ strange  curiosity  touching  the  mind  they  issued  from ; the 
‘ perhaps  unparalleled  psychical  mechanism,  which  manufac- 
tured such  matter,  and  emitted  it  to  the  light  of  day.  Had 
‘ Teufelsdrockh  also  a father  and  mother  ; did  he,  at  one 
‘ time,  wear  drivel-bibs,  and  live  on  spoon-meat  ? Did  he 
‘ ever,  in  rapture  and  tears,  clasp  a friend’s  bosom  to  his  ; 
‘ looks  he  also  wistfully  into  the  long  burial-aisle  of  the  Past, 
c where  only  winds,  and  their  low  harsh  moan,  give  inarticu- 
‘ late  answer  ? Has  he  fought  duels  ; — good  Heaven  ! how 
‘ did  he  comport  himself  when  in  Love  ? By  what  singular 
‘ stair-steps,  in  short,  and  subterranean  passages,  and  sloughs 
‘ of  Despair,  and  steep  Pisgah  hills,  has  he  reached  this  won- 
‘ derful  prophetic  Hebron  (a  true  Old-Clothes  J ewry)  where 
‘ he  now  dwells  ? 

‘ To  all  these  natural  questions  the  voice  of  Public  History 
‘ is  as  yet  silent.  Certain  only  that  he  has  been,  and  is,  a 
‘Pilgrim,  and  Traveller  from  a far  Country;  more  or  less 
‘ footsore  and  travel-soiled  ; has  parted  with  road-companions  ; 
‘ fallen  among  thieves,  been  poisoned  by  bad  cookery,  blistered 
‘ with  bugbites  ; nevertheless,  at  every  stage  (for  they  have 
‘ let  him  pass),  has  had  the  Bill  to  discharge.  But  the  whole 
‘ particulars  of  his  Route,  his  Weather-observations,  the  pic- 
‘ turesque  Sketches  he  took,  though  all  regularly  jotted  down 
‘(in  indelible  sympathetic-ink  by  an  invisible  interior  Pen- 
‘ man),  are  these  nowhere  forthcoming  ? Perhaps  quite  lost : 
‘ one  other  leaf  of  that  mighty  Volume  (of  human  Memory) 
‘ left  to  fly  abroad,  unprinted,  unpublished,  unbound  up,  as 
‘ waste  paper  ; and  rot,  the  sport  of  rainy  winds  ? 


PROSPECTIVE, 


67 


' No,  verehrtester  Herr  Herausgeber,  in  no  wise  ! I here,  by 
* the  unexampled  favour  you  stand  in  with  our  Sage,  send  not 
‘ a Biography  only,  but  an  Autobiography  : at  least  the  ma- 
‘ terials  for  such  ; wherefrom,  if  I misreckon  not,  your  per-- 
‘ spicacity  will  draw  fullest  insight : and  so  the  whole  Philos- 
£ ophy  and  Philosopher  of  Clothes  will  stand  clear  to  the 
‘ wondering  eyes  of  England,  nay  thence,  through  America, 
‘through  Hindostan,  and  the  antipodal  New  Holland,  finally 
6 conquer  ( einnehmen ) great  part  of  this  terrestrial  Planet ! 5 

And  now  let  the  sympathising  reader  judge  of  our  feeling 
when,  in  place  of  this  same  Autobiography  with  ‘ fullest  in- 
sight/ we  find — Six  considerable  Paper  Bags,  carefully  sealed, 
and  marked  successively,  in  gilt  China-ink,  with  the  symbols 
of  the  Six  southern  Zodiacal  Signs,  beginning  at  Libra  ; in 
the  inside  of  which  sealed  Bags  lie  miscellaneous  masses  of 
Sheets,  and  oftener  Shreds  and  Snips,  written  in  Professor 
Teufelsdrockh’s  scarce  legible  cursiv-schrift ; and  treating  of 
all  imaginable  things  under  the  Zodiac  and  above  it,  but  of  his 
own  personal  history  only  at  rare  intervals  and  then  in  the 
most  enigmatic  manner ! 

Whole  fascicles  there  are,  wherein  the  Professor,  or,  as  he 
here  speaking  in  the  third  person  calls  himself,  ‘ the  Wan- 
derer/ is  not  once  named.  Then  again,  amidst  what  seems 
to  be  a Metaphysico-theological  Disquisition,  ‘ Detached 
Thoughts  on  the  Steamengine/  or,  e The  continued  Possi- 
bility of  Prophecy/  we  shall  meet  with  some  quite  private, 
not  unimportant  Biographical  fact.  On  certain  sheets  stand 
Dreams,  authentic  or  not,  while  the  circumjacent  waking 
Actions  are  omitted.  Anecdotes,  oftenest  without  date  of 
place  or  time,  fly  loosely  on  separate  slijos,  like  Sibylline 
leaves.  Interspersed  also  are  long  purely  Autobiographical 
delineations  ; yet  without  connexion,  without  recognisable 
coherence  ; so  unimportant,  so  superfluously  minute,  they 
almost  remind  us  of  ‘P.P.  Clerk  of  this  Parish/  Thus  does 
famine  of  intelligence  alternate  with  waste.  Selection,  ‘order 
appears  to  be  unknown  to  the  Professor.  In  all  Bags  the  same 
imbroglio  ; only  perhaps  in  the  Bag  Capricorn , and  those 
near  it,  the  confusion  a little  worse  confounded.  Close  by  a 


68 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


rather  eloquent  Oration,  ‘ On  receiving  the  Doctor’s  Hat,’  lie 
wash-bills  marked  bezahlt  (settled).  His  Travels  are  indicated 
by  the  Street-Advertisements  of  the  various  cities  he  has 
visited ; of  which  Street-Advertisements,  in  most  living 
tongues,  here  is  perhaps  the  completest  collection  extant. 

So  that  if  the  Clothes-Yolume  itself  was  too  like  a Chaos, 
we  have  now  instead  of  the  solar  Luminary  that  should  still 
it,  the  airy  Limbo  which  by  intermixture  will  further  vola- 
tilise and  discompose  it ! As  we  shall  perhaps  see  it  our 
duty  ultimately  to  deposit  these  Six  Paper-Bags  in  the  British 
Museum,  farther  description,  and  all  vituperation  of  them, 
may  be  spared.  Biography  or  autobiography  of  Teufels- 
drockh  there  is,  clearly  enough,  none  to  be  gleaned  here  : at 
most  some  sketchy,  shadowy  fugitive  likeness  of  him  may,  by 
unheard-of-efforts,  partly  of  intellect,  partly  of  imagination, 
on  the  side  of  Editor  and  of  Reader,  rise  up  between  them. 
Only  as  a gaseous-chaotic  Appendix  to  that  aqueous-chaotic 
Volume  can  the  contents  of  the  Six  Bags  hover  round  us,  and 
portions  thereof  be  incorporated  with  our  delineation  of  it. 

Daily  and  nightly  does  the  Editor  sit  (with  green  specta- 
cles) deciphering  these  unimaginable  Documents  from  their 
perplexed  cursiv-schrift  ; collating  them  with  the  almost 
equally  unimaginable  Volume,  which  stands  in  legible  print. 
Over  such  a universal  medley  of  high  and  low,  of  hot,  cold, 
moist  and  dry,  is  he  here  struggling  (by  union  of  like  with 
like,  which  is  Method)  to  build  a firm  Bridge  for  British 
travellers.  Never  perhaps  since  our  first  Bridge-builders,  Sin 
and  Death,  built  that  stupendous  Arch  from  Hell-gate  to  the 
Earth,  did  any  Pontifex,  or  Pontiff,  undertake  such  a task  as 
the  present  Editor.  For  in  this  Arch  too,  leading,  as  we 
humbly  presume,  far  otherwards  than  that  grand  primeval 
one,  the  materials  are  to  be  fished  up  from  the  weltering 
deep,  and  down  from  the  simmering  air,  here  one  mass,  there 
another,  and  cunningly  cemented,  while  the  elements  boil  be- 
neath ; nor  is  there  any  supernatural  force  to  do  it  with  ; but 
simply  the  Diligence  and  feeble  thinking  Faculty  of  an  Eng- 
lish Editor,  endeavouring  to  evolve  printed  Creation  out  of  a 
German  printed  and  written  Chaos,  wherein,  as  he  shoots  to 


PROSPECTIVE. 


69 


and  fro  in  it,  gathering,  clutching,  piecing  the  Why  to  the 
far-distant  Wherefore,  his  whole  Faculty  and  Self  are  like  to 
be  swallowed  up. 

Patiently,  under  these  incessant  toils  and  agitations,  does 
the  Editor,  dismissing  all  anger,  see  his  otherwise  robust 
health  declining  ; some  fraction  of  his  alloted  natural  sleep 
nightly  leaving  him,  and  little  but  an  inflamed  nervous-sys- 
tem to  be  looked  for.  What  is  the  use  of  health,  or  of  life,  if 
not  to  do  some  work  therewith  ? And  what  work  nobler  than 
transplanting  foreign  Thought  into  the  barren  domestic  soil ; 
except  indeed  planting  Thought  of  your  own,  which  the  few- 
est are  privileged  to  do  ? Wild  as  it  looks,  this  Philosophy 
of  Clothes,  can  we  ever  reach  its  real  meaning,  promises  to 
reveal  new-coming  Eras,  the  first  dim  rudiments  and  already 
budding  germs  of  a nobler  Era,  in  Universal  History.  Is  not 
such  a prize  worth  some  striving  ? Forward  with  us,  coura- 
geous reader  ; be  it  towards  failure,  or  towards  success ! 
The  latter  thou  sharest  with  us,  the  former  also  is  not  all  our 


©wn. 


BOOK  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

GENESIS. 

In  a psychological  point  of  view,  it  is  perhaps  questionable 
whether  from  birth  and  genealogy,  how  closely  scrutinised 
soever,  much  insight  is  to  be  gained.  Nevertheless,  as  in 
every  phenomenon  the  Beginning  remains  always  the  most 
notable  moment ; so,  with  regard  to  any  great  man,  we  rest 
not  till,  for  our  scientific  profit  or  not,  the  whole  circumstances 
of  his  first  appearance  in  this  planet,  and  what  manner  of 
Public  Entry  he  made,  are  with  utmost  completeness  rendered 
manifest.  To  the  Genesis  of  our  Clothes-Philosoplier,  then, 
be  this  First  Chapter  consecrated.  Unhappily,  indeed,  he 
seems  to  be  of  quite  obscure  extraction  ; uncertain,  we  might 
almost  say,  whether  of  any : so  that  this  Genesis  of  his  can 
properly  be  nothing  but  an  Exodus  (or  transit  out  of  Invisi- 
bility into  Visibility) ; whereof  the  preliminary  portion  is  no- 
wfiiere  forthcoming. 

‘ In  the  village  of  Entepfuhl/  thus  writes  he,  in  the  Bag 
Libra , on  various  Papers,  which  we  arrange  with  difficulty, 

* dwelt  Andreas  Futteral  and  his  wife  ; childless,  in  still  seclu- 
‘ sion,  and  cheerful  though  now  verging  towards  old  age. 

* Andreas  had  been  grenadier  Sergeant,  and  even  regimental 

* Schoolmaster  under  Frederick  the  Great ; but  now,  quitting 
‘ the  halbert  and  ferule  for  the  spade  and  pruning-hook,  cul- 

* tivated  a little  orchard,  on  the  produce  of  which,  he  Cincin- 

* natusdike.  lived  not  without  dignity.  Fruits,  the  peach,  the 
‘ apple,  the  grape,  with  other  varieties  came  in  their  season  ; 
‘ all  which  Andreas  knew  how  to  sell : on  evenings  he  smoked 
‘ largely,  or  read  (as  beseemed  a regimental  Schoolmaster), 
‘ and  talked  to  neighbours  that  would  listen  about  the  Vic- 


72 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


' tory  of  Rossbach  ; and  how  Fritz  the  Only  (dev  Einzige)  had 
c once  with  his  own  royal  lips  spoken  to  him,  had  been  pleased 
4 to  say,  when  Andreas  as  camp-sentinel  demanded  the  pass- 
4 word,  44  Schweig ’ Hund  (Peace  hound)  ! ” before  any  of  his 
4 staff-adjutants  could  answer.  44 Das  nenn’  ich  mir  einen 
4 Konig , There  is  what  I call  a King,”  would  Andreas  exclaim  ; 
4 “but  the  smoke  of  Kunersdorf  was  still  smarting  his  eyes.” 

4 Gretchen,  the  housewife,  won  like  Desdemona  by  the 
4 deeds  rather  than  the  looks  of  her  now  veteran  Othello, 
4 lived  not  in  altogether  military  subordination ; for,  as  An- 
4 dreas  said,  44  the  womankind  will  not  drill  (wer  kann  die 
4 Weiberchen  dressiren) : ” nevertheless  she  at  heart  loved  him 
4 both  for  valour  and  wisdom ; to  her  a Prussian  grenadier 
4 Sergeant  and  Regiment’s  Schoolmaster  was  little  other  than 
4 a Cicero  and  Cid : what  you  see,  yet  cannot  see  over,  is  as 
4 good  as  infinite.  Nay,  was  not  Andreas  in  very  deed  a man 
4 of  order,  courage,  downrightness  ( Geradheit ) ; that  under- 
4 stood  Biisching’s  Geography,  had  been  in  the  victory  of 
c Rossbach,  and  left  for  dead  in  the  camisade  of  Hochkirch  ? 
4 The  good  Gretchen,  for  all  her  fretting,  watched  over  him 
4 and  hovered  around  him,  as  only  a true  house-mother  can  : 
4 assiduously  she  cooked  and  sewed  and  scoured  for  him  ; so 
‘ that  not  only  his  old  regimental  sword  and  grenadier-cap, 
‘ but  the  whole  habitation  and  environment,  where  on  pegs 
£ of  honour  they  hung,  looked  ever  trim  and  gay  ; a roomy 
£ painted  Cottage,  embowered  in  fruit-trees  and  forest-trees, 
‘ evergreens  and  honeysuckles ; rising  many-coloured  from 
‘ amid  shaven  grass-plots,  flowers  struggling  in  through  the 
c very  windows ; under  its  long  projecting  eaves  nothing  but 
‘ garden-tools  in  methodic  piles  (to  screen  them  from  rain), 
4 and  seats  where,  especially  on  summer  nights,  a King  might 
4 have  wished  to  sit  and  smoke,  and  call  it  his.  Such  a Bauer- 
4 gut  (Copyhold)  had  Gretchen  given  her  veteran  ; whose 
4 sinewy  arms,  and  long-disused  gardening  talent,  had  made 
4 it  what  you  saw. 

4 Into  this  umbrageous  Man’s-nest,  one  meek  yellow  even- 
4 ing  or  dusk,  when  the  Sun,  hidden  indeed  from  terrestrial 
4 Entepfuhl,  did  nevertheless  journey  visible  and  radiant  along 


GENESIS. 


73 


e the  celestial  Balance  (Libra),  it  was  that  a Stranger  of  rev- 
‘ erend  aspect  entered ; and  with  grave  salutation,  stood  be- 
4 fore  the  two  rather  astonished  housemates.  He  was  close- 
‘ muffled  in  a wide  mantle  ; which  without  farther  parley 
4 unfolding,  he  deposited  therefrom  what  seemed  some  Basket, 
4 overhung  with  green  Persian  silk  ; saying  only  : I hr  lieben 
4 Leute,  hier  bringe  ein  unschdtzbares  Verleihen  ; nehmt  es  in  alter 
4 Acht,  sorgfdltigst  benutzt  es  : mit  holiem  Lohn,  oder  ivohl  mit 
4 schweren  Zinsen,  wird’s  einst  zuriickgefordert.  44  Good  Chris- 
4 tian  people,  here  lies  for  you  an  invaluable  Loan  ; take  all 
4 heed  thereof,  in  all  carefulness  employ  it : with  high  recom- 
4 pense,  or  else  with  heavy  penalty,  will  it  one  day  be  required 
4 back.”  Uttering  which  singular  words,  in  a clear,  bell-like, 
4 forever  memorable  tone,  the  Stranger  gracefully  withdrew  ; 
4 and  before  Andreas  or  his  wife,  gazing  in  expectant  wonder, 
4 had  time  to  fashion  either  question  or  answer,  was  clean 
4 gone.  Neither  out  of  doors  could  aught  of  him  be  seen  or 
4 heard ; he  had  vanished  in  the  thickets,  in  the  dusk  ; the 
4 Orchard-gate  stood  quietly  closed : the  Stranger  was  gone 
4 once  and  always.  So  sudden  had  the  whole  transaction 
4 been,  in  the  autumn  stillness  and  twilight,  so  gentle,  noise- 
4 less,  that  the  Futterals  could  have  fancied  it  all  a trick  of 
4 Imagination,  or  some  visit  from  an  authentic  Spirit.  Only 

* that  the  green  silk  Basket,  such  as  neither  Imagination  nor 
c authentic  Spirits  are  wont  to  carry,  still  stood  visible  and 

* tangible  on  their  little  parlour-table.  Towards  this  the  as- 
4 tonished  couple,  now  with  lit  candle,  hastily  turned  their  at- 
4 tention.  Lifting  the  green  veil,  to  see  what  invaluable  it 
c hid,  they  descried  there  amid  down  and  rich  white  wrap- 
4 pages,  no  Pitt  Diamond  or  Hapsburg  Regalia,  but  in  the 
4 softest  sleep,  a little  red-coloured  Infant ! Beside  it,  lay  a 
4 roll  of  gold  Friedrichs  the  exact  amount  of  which  was  never 
4 publicly  known ; also  a Taufschein  (baptismal  certificate), 
4 wherein  unfortunately  nothing  but  the  Name  was  decipher- 
4 able  ; other  documents  or  indication  none  whatever. 

‘To  wonder  and  conjecture  was  unavailing,  then  and  always 
4 thenceforth.  Nowhere  in  Entepfuhl,  on  the  morrow  or  next 

* day,  did  tidings  transpire  of  any  such  figure  as  the  Stranger ; 


n 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ nor  could  the  Traveller,  who  had  passed  through  the  neigh- 
bouring Town  in  coach-and-four,  be  connected  with  this 
‘ Apparition,  except  in  the  way  of  gratuitous  surmise.  Mean- 
‘ while,  for  Andreas  and  his  wife,  the  grand  practical  problem 
‘was  : What  to  do  with  this  little  sleeping  red-coloured  Infant? 
6 Amid  amazements  and  curiosities,  which  had  to  die  away 
c without  external  satisfying,  they  resolved,  as  in  such  circum- 
c stances  charitable  prudent  people  needs  must,  on  nursing  it, 
‘ though  with  spoon-meat,  into  whiteness,  and  if  possible  into 
‘ manhood.  The  Heavens  smiled  on  their  endeavour  : thus 
‘ has  that  same  mysterious  Individual  ever  since  had  a status 
‘ for  himself  in  this  visible  Universe,  some  modicum  of  victual 
c and  lodging  and  parade-ground  ; and  now  expanded  in  bulk, 
‘ faculty,  and  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  he,  as  Herr  Diogenes 
‘ Teufelsdrockh,  professes  or  is  ready  to  profess,  perhaps  not 
‘altogether  without  effect,  in  the  new  University  of  Weiss- 
c nichtwo,  the  new  Science  of  Things  in  General.’ 

Our  Philosopher  declares  here,  as  indeed  we  should  think 
he  well  might,  that  these  facts,  first  communicated,  by  the 
good  Gretchen  Futteral,  in  his  twelfth  year,  4 produced  on 
‘the  boyish  heart  and  fancy  a quite  indelible  impression. 
‘Who  this  reverend  Personage,’  he  says,  ‘that  glided  into  the 
‘ Orchard  Cottage  when  the  Sun  was  in  Libra,  and  then,  as 
‘ on  spirit’s  wings,  glided  out  again,  might  be  ? An  inexpressi- 
‘ ble  desire,  full  of  love  and  of  sadness,  has  often  since  strug- 
‘ gled  within  me  to  shape  an  answer.  Ever,  in  my  distresses 
‘ and  my  loneliness,  has  Fantasy  turned,  full  of  longing(se/m- 
‘ suchtsvoll),  to  that  unknown  Father,  who  perhaps  far  from 
‘ me,  perhaps  near,  either  way  invisible,  might  have  taken  me 
‘to  his  paternal  bosom,  there  to  lie  screened  from  many  a 
‘ woe.  Thou  beloved  Father,  dost  thou  still,  shut  out  from 
‘ me  only  by  thin  penetrable  curtains  of  earthly  Space,  wend 
‘ to  and  fro  among  the  crowd  of  the  living  ? Or  art  thou  hid- 
‘ den  by  those  far  thicker  curtains  of  the  Everlasting  Night,  or 
‘ rather  of  the  Everlasting  Day,  through  which  my  mortal  eye 
‘ and  outstretched  arms  need  not  strive  to  reach  ? Alas  ! I 
‘ know  not,  and  in  vain  vex  myself  to  know.  More  than  once, 
‘ heart-deluded,  have  I taken  for  thee  this  and  the  other  noble- 


GENESIS.  75 

‘looking  Stranger  ; and  approached  him  wistfully,  with  infinite 
‘ regard  ; but  he  too  had  to  repel  me,  he  too  was  not  thou. 

‘And  yet,  O Man  born  of  Woman,’  cries  the  Autobiographer, 
with  one  of  his  sudden  whirls,  ‘wherein  is  my  case  peculiar? 
‘Hadst  thou,  any  more  than  I,  a Father  whom  thou  knowest? 
‘ The  Andreas  and  Gretchen,  or  the  Adam  and  Eve,  who  led 
‘ thee  into  Life,  and  for  a time  suckled  and  pap-fed  thee  there, 
‘ whom  thou  namest  Father  and  Mother ; these  were,  like 
‘mine,  but  thy  nursing-father  and  nursing-mother  : thy  true 
‘ Beginning  and  Father  is  in  Heaven,  whom  with  the  bodily 
‘eye  thou  shalt  never  behold,  but  only  with  the  spiritual.’ 

‘ The  little  green  veil,’  adds  he,  among  much  similar  moral- 
ising, and  embroiled  discoursing,  ‘ I yet  keep  ; still  more  in- 
‘ separably  the  Name,  Diogenes  Teufelsdrockh.  From  the 
‘ veil  can  nothing  be  inferred  : a piece  of  now  quite  faded 
‘ Persian  silk,  like  thousands  of  others.  On  the  name  I have 
‘ many  times  meditated  and  conjectured  ; but  neither  in  this 
‘ lay  there  any  clue.  That  it  was  my  unknown  Father’s  name 
‘ I must  hesitate  to  believe.  To  no  purpose  have  I searched 
‘ through  all  the  Herald’s  Books,  in  and  without  the  German 
‘ Empire,  and  through  all  manner  of  Subscriber-Lists  [Pranu- 
‘ meranten ),  Militia-Rolls,  and  other  Name-catalogues  ; extra- 
‘ ordinary  names  as  we  have  in  Germany,  the  name  Teufels- 
‘ drockh,  except  as  appended  to  my  own  person,  nowhere  occurs. 
‘ Again  what  may  the  unchristian  rather  than  Christian  “ Diog- 
‘ enes  ” mean  ? Did  that  reverend  Basket-bearer  intend  by 
‘ such  designation,  to  shadow  forth  my  future  destiny,  or  his 
‘ own  present  malign  humour  ? Perhaps  the  latter,  perhaps 
‘ both.  Thou  ill-starred  Parent,  who  like  an  Ostrich  hadst  to 
1 leave  thy  ill-starred  offspring  to  be  hatched  into  self-sup- 
1 port  by  the  mere  sky-influences  of  Chance,  can  thy  pilgrim- 
‘ age  have  been  a smooth  one?  Beset  by  Misfortune  thou 
‘ doubtless  hast  been  ; or  indeed  by  the  worst  figure  of  Mis- 
‘ fortune,  by  Misconduct.  Often  have  I fancied  how,  in  thy 
‘ hard  life-battle,  thou  wert  shot  at  and  slung  at,  wounded, 
‘ hand -fettered,  hamstrung,  browbeaten  and  bedevilled,  by 
‘ the  Time-Spirit  [Zeitgeist)  in  thyself  and  others,  till  the  good 
‘ soul  first  given  thee  was  seared  into  grim  rage ; and  thou 


76 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ hadst  nothing  for  it  but  to  leave  in  me  an  indignant  appeal 
‘ to  the  Future,  and  living  speaking  Protest  against  the  Devil, 
c as  that  same  Spirit  not  of  the  Time  only,  but  of  Time  itself, 
‘ is  well  named ! Which  Appeal  and  Protest,  may  I now 
‘ modestly  add,  was  not  perhaps  quite  lost  in  air. 

‘ For  indeed  as  Walter  Shandy  often  insisted,  there  is  much, 
( nay  almost  all,  in  Names.  The  N|me  is  the  earliest  Gar- 
‘ ment  you  wrap  round  the  Earth-visiting  Me  ; to  which  it 
c thenceforth  cleaves,  more  tenaciously  (for  there  are  Names 
‘ that  have  lasted  nigh  thirty  centuries)  than  the  very  skin. 
‘ And  now  from  without,  what  mystic  influences  does  it  not 
‘ send  inwards,  even  to  the  centre  ; especially  in  those  plastic 
‘ first-times,  when  the  whole  soul  is  yet  infantine,  soft,  and 
‘ the  invisible  seed-grain  will  grow  to  be  an  all-overshadowing 
‘ tree  ! Names  ? Could  I unfold  the  influence  of  Names, 
e which  are  the  most  important  of  all  clothings,  I were  a second 
c greater  Trismegistus.  Not  only  all  common  Speech,  but  Sci- 
‘ ence,  Poetry  itself  is  no  other,  if  thou  consider  it,  than  a 
c right  Naming . Adam’s  first  task  was  giving  names  to  natural 
‘ Appearances : what  is  ours  still  but  a continuation  of  the 
c same ; be  the  appearances  exotic-vegetable,  organic,  mechanic, 
‘ stars,  or  starry  movements  (as  in  Science),  or  (as  in  Poetry) 
‘ passions,  virtues,  calamities,  God-attributes,  Gods  ? — In  a 
‘ very  plain  sense  the  Proverb  says,  Call  one  a thief  \ and  he  will 
‘ steal ; in  an  almost  similar  sense,  may  we  not  perhaps  say, 
c Call  one  Diogenes  Teufelsdrockh , and  he  zoill  open  the  Philos - 
‘ ophy  of  Clothes / 

‘ Meanwhile  the  incipient  Diogenes,  like  others,  all  ignorant 
c of  his  Why,  his  How  or  Whereabout,  was  opening  his  eyes 
‘ to  the  kind  Light ; sprawling  out  his  ten  fingers  and  toes ; 
c listening,  tasting,  feeling ; in  a word,  by  all  his  Five  Senses, 
‘ still  more  by  his  sixth  Sense  of  Hunger,  and  a whole  infini- 
‘ tude  of  inward,  spiritual,  half-awakened  Senses,  endeavour- 
‘ ing  daily  to  acquire  for  himself  some  knowledge  of  this 
‘ strange  Universe  where  he  had  arrived,  be  his  task  therein 
6 what  it  might.  Infinite  was  his  progress  ; thus  in  some 
‘ fifteen  months,  he  could  perform  the  miracle  of — Speech  ! To 
‘ breed  a fresh  Soul,  is  it  not  like  brooding  a fresh  (celestial) 


GENESIS. 


77 


< Egg  ; wherein  as  yet  all  is  formless  ; powerless  ; yet  by  de- 

* grees  organic  elements  and  fibres  shoot  through  the  watery 

* albumen  ; and  out  of  vague  Sensation,  grows  Thought,  grows 

* Fantasy  and  Force,  and  we  have  Philosophies,  Dynasties, 
c nay  Poetries  and  Religions  ! 

‘ Young  Diogenes,  or  rather  young  Gneschen,  for  by  such 
‘ diminutive  had  they  in  their  fondness  named  him,  travelled 
‘ forward  to  those  high  consummations,  by  quick  yet  easy 
‘ stages.  The  Futterals,  to  avoid  vain  talk,  and  moreover 
‘ keep  the  roll  of  gold  Friedrichs  safe,  gave  out  that  he  was  a 
c grand-nephew ; the  orphan  of  some  sister’s  daughter,  sud- 
‘ denly  deceased,  in  Andreas’s  distant  Prussian  birtli-land  ; of 
‘ whom,  as  of  her  indigent  sorrowing  widower,  little  enough 
‘ was  known  at  Entepfulil.  Heedless  of  all  which,  the  Nurse- 
‘ ling  took  to  his  spoon-meat,  and  throve.  I have  heard  him 
c noted  as  a still  infant,  that  kept  his  mind  much  to  himself  ; 
‘ above  all,  that  seldom  or  never  cried.  He  already  felt  that 

* time  was  precious  ; that  he  had  other  work  cut  out  for  him 
‘ than  whimpering.’ 

Such,  after  utmost  painful  search  and  collation  among  these 
miscellaneous  Paper-masses,  is  all  the  notice  we  can  gather  of 
Herr  Teufelsdrockh’s  genealogy.  More  imperfect,  more  enig- 
matic it  can  seem  to  few  readers  than  to  us.  The  Professor, 
in  whom  truly  we  more  and  more  discern  a certain  satirical 
turn,  and  deep  under-currents  of  roguish  whim,  for  the  pres- 
ent stands  pledged  in  honour,  so  we  will  not  doubt  him  : but 
seems  it  not  conceivable  that,  by  the  ‘ good  Gretchen  Fut- 
teral,’  or  some  other  perhaps  interested  party,  he  has  himself 
been  deceived  ? Should  these  sheets,  translated  or  not,  ever 
reach  the  Entepfuhl  Circulating-Library,  some  cultivated  na- 
tive of  that  district  might  feel  called  to  afford  explanation. 
Nay,  since  Books,  like  invisible  scouts,  permeate  the  whole 
habitable  globe,  and  Tombuctoo  itself  is  not  safe  from  British 
Literature,  may  not  some  Copy  find  out  even  the  mysterious 
Basket-bearing  stranger,  who  in  a state  of  extreme  senility  per- 
haps still  exists ; and  gently  force  even  him  to  disclose  him- 
self ; to  claim  openly  a son,  in  whom  any  father  may  feel  pride  ? 


78 


SARTOR  BESABTUS. 


CHAPTEE  II 

IDYLLIC. 

‘ Happy  season  of  Childhood  ! ’ exclaims  Teufelsdrockh : 
‘ Kind  Nature,  that  art  to  all  a bountiful  mother ; that  visitest 
‘ the  poor  man’s  hut  with  auroral  radiance  ; and  for  thy 
‘ Nurseling  hast  provided  a soft  swathing  of  Love  and  infinite 
‘ Hope,  wherein  he  waxes  and  slumbers,  danced-round  (um- 
‘ gdulcelt)  by  sweetest  Dreams  ! If  the  paternal  Cottage  still 
‘ shuts  us  in,  its  roof  still  screens  us  ; with  a Father  we  have 
‘ as  yet  a prophet,  priest  and  king,  and  an  Obedience  that 
‘ makes  us  Free.  The  young  spirit  has  awakened  out  of  Efcer- 
* nity,  and  knows  not  what  we  mean  by  Time  ; as  yet  Time  is 
‘ no  fast  hurrying  stream,  but  a sportful  sunlit  ocean  ; years 
e to  the  child  are  as  ages  : ah  ! the  secret  of  Vicissitude,  of 
‘ that  slower  or  quicker  decay  and  ceaseless  down-rushing  of 
‘ the  universal  World-fabric,  from  the  granite  mountain  to  the 
‘ man  or  day-moth,  is  yet  unknown  ; and  in  a motionless  XJni- 
‘ verse,  we  taste,  what  afterwards  in  this  quick- whirling  Uni- 
‘ verse  is  forever  denied  us,  the  balm  of  Best.  Sleep  on,  thou 
‘ fair  Child,  for  thy  long  rough  journey  is  at  hand  ! A little 
‘ while,  and  thou  too  shalt  sleep  no  more,  but  thy  very  dreams 
‘ shall  be  mimic  battles ; thou  too,  with  old  Arnauld,  wilt  have 
‘ to  say  in  stern  patience  : “ Eest  ? Eest  ? Shall  I not  have 
‘all  Eternity  to  rest  in?”  Celestial  Nepenthe!  though  a 
‘ Pyrrhus  conquer  empires,  and  an  Alexander  sack  the  world, 
‘ he  finds  thee  not ; and  thou  hast  once  fallen  gently,  of  thy 
‘ own  accord,  on  the  eyelids,  on  the  heart  of  every  mother’s 
‘ child.  For  as  yet,  sleep  and  waking  are  one  : the  fair  Life- 
‘ garden  rustles  infinite  around,  and  everywhere  is  dewy  fra- 
‘ grance,  and  the  budding  of  Hope  ; which  budding,  if  in 
‘youth,  too  frostnipt,  it  grows  to  flowers,  will  in  manhood 
‘yield  no  fruit,  but  a prickly,  bitter-rinded  stone-fruit,  of 
‘ which  the  fewest  can  find  the  kernel.’ 

In  such  rose-coloured  light  does  our  Professor,  as  Poets  are 
wont,  look  back  on  his  childhood  ; the  historical  details  of 


IDYLLIC . 


79 


which  (to  say  nothing  of  much  other  vague  oratorical  matter) 
he  accordingly  dwells  on,  with  an  almost  wearisome  minute- 
ness. We  hear  of  Entepfuhl  standing  ‘ in  trustful  derange- 
ment ’ among  the  woody  slopes  ; the  paternal  Orchard  flank- 
ing it  as  extreme  outpost  from  below  ; the  little  Kuhbach 
gushing  kindly  by,  among  beech-rows,  through  river  after 
river,  into  the  Donau,  into  the  Black  Sea,  into  the  Atmosphere 
and  Universe  ; and  how  £ the  brave  old  Linden/  stretching 
like  a parasol  of  twenty  ells  in  radius,  overtopping  all  other 
rows  and  clumps,  towered  up  from  the  central  Agora  and 
Campus  Martius  of  the  Village,  like  its  Sacred  Tree  ; and  how 
the  old  man  sat  talking  under  its  shadow  (Gnesclien  often 
greedily  listening),  and  the  wearied  labourers  reclined,  and 
the  unwearied  children  sported,  and  the  young  men  and 
maidens  often  danced  to  flute-music.  ‘ Glorious  summer  twi- 
lights/ cries  Teufelsdrockh,  ‘ when  the  Sun  like  a proud 
£ Conqueror  and  Imperial  Taskmaster  turned  his  back,  with 
‘ his  gold  purple  emblazonry,  and  all  his  fire-clad  bodyguard 
c (of  Prismatic  Colours) ; and  the  tired  brickmakers  of  this 
‘ clay  Earth  might  steal  a little  frolic,  and  those  few  meek 
‘ Stars  would  not  tell  of  them  I ’ 

Then  we  have  long  details  of  the  Weinlesen  (Vintage),  the 
Harvest-Home,  Christmas,  and  so  forth  ; with  a whole  cycle 
of  the  Entepfuhl  Children’s-games,  differing  apparently  by 
mere  superficial  shades  from  those  of  other  countries.  Con- 
cerning all  which,  we  shall  here,  for  obvious  reasons,  say 
nothing.  What  cares  the  world  for  our  as  yet  miniature 
Philosopher’s  achievements  under  that  c brave  old  Linden  ? 9 
Or  even  where  is  the  use  of  such  practical  reflections  as  the 
following?  ‘In  all  the  sports  of  children,  were  it  only  in 
‘ their  wanton  breakages  and  defacements,  you  shall  discern 
‘ a creative  instinct  ( schaffeden  Trieb)  : the  Mankin  feels  that 
‘ he  is  a born  Man,  that  his  vocation  is  to  Work.  The 
‘ choicest  present  you  can  make  him  is  a Tool ; be  it  knife  or 
6 pen-gun,  for  construction  or  for  destruction ; either  way  it 
'is  for  Work,  for  Change.  In  gregarious  sports  of  skill 
‘ or  strength,  the  Boy  trains  himself  to  Co-operation,  for  war 
* or  peace,  as  governor  or  governed : the  little  Maid  again, 


80 


SARTOR  RESARTUS . 


* provident  of  her  domestic  destiny,  takes  with  preference  to 
‘ Dolls.’ 

Perhaps,  however,  we  may  give  this  anecdote,  considering 
who  it  is  that  relates  it  : £ My  first  short-clothes  were  of  yeb 

* low  serge  ; or  rather,  I should  say,  my  first  short  cloth,  for 
c the  vesture  was  one  and  indivisible,  reaching  from  neck  to 

ankle,  a mere  body  with  four  limbs  : of  which  fashion  how 
c little  could  I then  divine  the  architectural,  how  much  less 
c the  moral  significance  ! ’ 

More  graceful  is  the  following  little  picture  : c On  fine  even- 
‘ ings  I was  wont  to  carry  forth  my  supper  (bread-crumb 
‘ boiled  in  milk),  and  eat  it  out  of  doors.  On  the  coping  of 
£ the  Orchard  wall,  which  I could  reach  by  climbing,  or  still 
‘ more  easily  if  Father  Andreas  would  set  up  the  pruning- 
‘ ladder,  my  porringer  was  placed  : there,  many  a sunset, 
‘ have  I,  looking  at  the  distant  western  Mountains,  consumed, 
‘ not  without  relish,  my  evening  meal.  Those  hues  of  gold 
£ and  azure,  that  hush  of  World’s  expectation  as  Day  died, 
‘ wrere  still  a Hebrew  Speech  for  me  ; nevertheless  I was  look- 
£ ing  at  the  fair  illuminated  Letters,  and  had  an  eye  for  their 
£ gilding.’ 

With  £ the  little  one’s  friendship  for  cattle  and  poultry,’  we 
shall  not  much  intermeddle.  It  may  be  that  hereby  he  ac- 
quired a £ certain  deeper  sympathy  with  animated  Nature ; ’ 
but  when,  we  would  ask,  saw  any  man,  in  a collection  of  Bio- 
graphical Documents,  such  a piece  as  this : £ Impressive 
£ enough  ( bedeutungsvoll ) wTas  it  to  hear,  in  early  morning,  the 
£ Swineherd’s  horn  ; and  know  that  so  many  hungry  happy 

quadrupeds  were,  on  all  sides,  starting  in  hot  haste  to  join 
‘ him,  for  breakfast  on  the  Heath.  Or  to  see  them,  at  even- 
c tide,  all  marching  in  again,  with  short  squeak,  almost  in 
5 military  order  ; and  each,  topographically  correct,  trotting 
‘ off  in  succession  to  the  right  or  left,  through  its  own  lane,  to 
£ its  own  dwelling  ; till  old  Kunz,  at  the  Village-head,  now 
£ left  alone,  blew  his  last  blast,  and  retired  for  the  night.  We 
£ are  wont  to  love  the  Hog  chiefly  in  the  form  of  Ham  ; yet 
£ did  not  these  bristly  thick-skinned  beings  here  manifest  in- 

* telligence,  perhaps  humour  of  character  ; at  any  rate,  a 


IDYLLIC. 


81 


* touching,  trustful  submissiveness  to  Man, — who  were  he  but 
‘ a Swineherd,  in  darned  gabardine,  and  leather  breeches 
‘ more  resembling  slate  or  discoloured  tin  breeches,  is  still 
‘ the  Hierarch  of  this  lower  world?  ’ 

It  is  maintained,  by  Helvetius  and  his  set,  that  an  infant  of 
genius  is  quite  the  same  as  any  other  infant,  only  that  certain 
surprisingly  favourable  influences  accompany  him  through  life, 
especially  through  childhood,  and  expand  him,  while  others  lie 
close-folded  and  continue  dunces.  Herein,  say  they,  consists 
the  whole  difference  between  an  inspired  Prophet  and  a double- 
barrelled  Game-preserver  : the  inner  man  of  the  one  has  been 
fostered  into  generous  development ; that  of  the  other,  crushed 
down  perhaps  by  vigour  of  animal  digestion,  and  the  like,  has 
exuded  and  evaporated,  or  at  best  sleeps  now  irresuscitably 
stagnant  at  the  bottom  of  his  stomach.  4 With  which  opinion/ 
cries  Teufelsdrockh,  £I  should  as  soon  agree  as  with  this  other, 
4 that  an  acorn  might,  by  favourable  or  unfavourable  influences 
4 of  soil  and  climate,  be  nursed  into  a cabbage,  or  the  cabbage- 
4 seed  into  an  oak. 

4 Nevertheless/  continues  he,  4 I too  acknowledge  the  all-but 
4 omnipotence  of  early  culture  and  nurture  : hereby  we  have 
4 either  a doddered  dwarf  bush,  or  a high-towering,  wide-shad- 
4 owing  tree  ; either  a sick  yellow  cabbage,  or  an  edible,  lux- 
4 uriant  green  one.  Of  a truth,  it  is  the  duty  of  all  men,  espe- 
4 cially  of  all  philosophers,  to  note  down  with  accuracy  the  char- 
4 acteristic  circumstances  of  their  Education,  what  furthered, 
4 what  hindered,  what  in  any  way  modified  it : to  which  duty, 
4 now-a-days  so  pressing  for  many  a German  Autobiographer, 
4 1 also  zealously  address  myself.’ — Thou  rogue ! Is  it  by  short 
clothes  of  yellow  serge,  and  swineherd  horns,  that  an  infant  of 
genius  is  educated  ? And  yet,  as  usual,  it  ever  remains  doubt- 
ful whether  he  is  laughing  in  his  sleeve  at  these  Autobiographi- 
cal times  of  ours,  or  writing  from  the  abundance  of  his  own 
fond  ineptitude.  For  he  continues  : 4 If  among  the  ever- 
4 streaming  currents  of  Sighs,  Hearings,  Feelings  for  Pain  or 
4 Pleasure,  whereby,  as  in  a Magic  Hall,  young  Gneschen  went 
4 about  environed,  I might  venture  to  select  and  specify,  per- 
4 haps  these  following  were  also  of,  the  number  : 

6 


82; 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 Doubtless,  as  childish  sports  call  forth  Intellect,  Activity^ 
4 so  the  young  creature’s  Imagination  was  stirred  up,  and  a 
4 Historical  tendency  given  him  by  the  narrative  habits  of  Father 
4 Andreas ; who  with  his  battle-reminiscences,  and  grey  austere 
4 yet  hearty  patriarchal  aspect,  could  not  but  appear  another 
4 Ulysses  and  44  Much-enduring  Man.”  Eagerly  I hung  upon 
4 his  tales,  when  listening  neighbours  enlivened  the  hearth  : 
4 from  these  perils  and  these  travels,  wild  and  far  almost  as 
4 Hades  itself,  a dim  world  of  Adventure  expanded  itself  with- 
4 in  me.  Incalculable  also  was  the  knowledge  I acquired  in 
4 standing  by  the  Old  Men  under  the  Linden-tree : the  whole 
4 of  Immensity  was  yet  new  to  me  ; and  had  not  these  reverend 
k seniors,  talkative  enough,  been  employed  in  partial  surveys 
4 thereof  for  nigh  fourscore  years  ? With  amazement  I began 
4 to  discover  that  Entepfuhl  stood  in  the  middle  of  a Country, 
4 of  a World  : that  there  was  such  a thing  as  History,  as  Biog- 
4 raphy  ; to  which  I also,  one  day,  by  hand  and  tongue,  might 
4 contribute. 

4 In  a like  sense  worked  the  Postwagen  (Stage-Coach),,  which, 
4 slow-rolling  under  its  mountains  of  men  and  luggage,  wended 
4 through  our  Village  : northwards,  truly  in  the  dead  of  night ; 
4 yet  southwards  visibly  at  eventide.  Not  till  my  eighth  year, 
4 did  I reflect  that  this  Postwagon  could  be  other  than  some 
4 terrestrial  Moon,  rising  and  setting  by  mere  Law  of  Nature, 
4 like  the  heavenly  one  ; that  it  came  on  made  highways,  from 
4 far  cities  towards  far  cities  ; weaving  them  like  a monstrous 
4 shuttle  into  closer  and  closer  union.  It  was  then  that,  in- 
4 dependency  of  Schiller’s  Wilhelm  Tell , I made  this  not  quite 
4 insignificant  reflection  (so  true  also  in  spiritual  things)  : Any 
4 road,  this  simple  Entepfuhl  road,  will  lead  you  to  the  end  of  the 
4 World  ! 

4 Why  mention  our  Swallows,  which,  out  of  fair  Africa  as  I 
4 learned,  threading  their  way  over  seas  and  mountains,  eor- 
4 porate  cities  and  belligerent  nations,  yearly  found  themselves, 
4 with  the  month  of  May,  snug-lodged  in  our  Cottage  Lobby  ? 
4 the  hospitable  Father  (for  cleanliness’  sake)  had  fixed  a little 
4 bracket,  plumb  under  their  nest : there  they  built,  and  caught 
4 flies,  and  twittered,  and  bred  ; and  all,  I chiefly,  from  the 


IDYLLIC. 


83 


* heart  loved  them.  Bright,  nimble  creatures,  who  taught  you 
‘ the  mason-craft ; nay,  stranger  still,  gave  you  a masonic  in- 
e corporation,  almost  social  policy  ? For  if,  by  ill  chance,  and 
c when  time  pressed,  your  House  fell,  have  I not  seen  five 
‘ neighbourly  Helpers  appear  next  day  ; and  swashing  to  and 
‘ fro,  with  animated  loud,  long-drawn  chirpings,  and  activ- 
5 ity  almost  super-liirundine,  complete  it  again  before  night- 
fall? 

‘ But  undoubtedly  the  grand  summary  of  Entepfuhl  child’s 
‘ culture,  where  as  in  a funnel  its  manifold  influences  were  con- 
c centrated  and  simultaneously  poured  down  on  us,  was  the 
£ annual  Cattle -fair.  Here,  assembling  from  all  the  four  winds, 
‘came  the  elements  of  an  unspeakable  hurly-burly.  Nut- 
‘ brown  maids  and  nutbrown  men,  all  clear-washed,  loud- 
‘ laughing,  bedizened  and  beribanded  ; who  came  for  dancing, 
‘for  treating,  and  if  possible  for  happiness.  Topbooted 
‘ Graziers  from  the  North ; Swiss  Brokers,  Italian  Drovers, 
‘ also  topbooted,  from  the  South ; these  with  their  subalterns 
‘ in  leather  jerkins,  leather  skull-caps,  and  long  ox-goads  ; 
‘ shouting  in  half-articulate  speech,  amid  the  inarticulate  bark- 
‘ ing  and  bellowing.  Apart  stood  Potters  from  far  Saxony, 
‘with  their  crockery  in  fair  rows  ; Niirnberg  Pedlars,  in  booths 
‘ that  to  me  seemed  richer  than  Ormuz  bazaars ; Showmen 
‘from  the  Lago  Maggiore  ; detachments  of  the  Wiener  Schub 
‘ (Offscourings  of  Vienna)  vociferously  superintending  games 
‘ of  chance.  Ballad-singers  brayed,  Auctioneers  grew  hoarse ; 
‘ cheap  New  Wine  ( heuriger ) flowed  like  water,  still  worse  con- 

* founding  the  confusion  ; and  high  over  all,  vaulted,  in  ground- 
‘ and-lofty  tumbling,  a particoloured  Merry  Andrew,  like  the 
‘ genius  of  the  place  and  of  Life  itself. 

‘ Thus  encircled  by  the  mystery  of  Existence ; under  the 
‘ deep  heavenly  Firmament ; waited  on  by  the  four  golden 
‘ Seasons  with  their  vicissitudes  of  contribution,  for  even  grim 
‘Winter  brought  its  skating-matches  and  shooting-matches, 
‘its  snow-storms  and  Christmas  carols, — did  the  child  sit  and 
‘ learn.  These  things  were  the  Alphabet,  whereby  in  after- 


84 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ time  he  was  to  syllable  and  partly  read  the  grand  Volume  of 
‘the  World:  what  matters  it  whether  such  Alphabet  be  in 
‘large  gilt  letters  or  in  small  ungilt  ones,  so  you  have  an  eye 
‘to  read  it?  For  Gnesclien,  eager  to  learn,  the  very  act  of 
‘ looking  thereon  was  a blessedness  that  gilded  all : his  ex- 
istence was  a bright,  soft  element  of  Joy;  out  of  which,  as 
‘ in  Prospero’s  Island,  wonder  after  wonder  bodied  itself  forth, 
• ‘ to  teach  by  charming. 

‘ Nevertheless,  I were  but  a vain  dreamer  to  say,  that  even 
‘ then  my  felicity  was  perfect.  I had,  once  for  all,  come  down 
‘ from  Heaven  into  the  Earth.  Among  the  rainbow  colours 
‘ that  glowed  on  my  horizon,  lay  even  in  childhood  a dark  ring 
‘of  Care,  as  yet  no  thicker  than  a thread,  and  often  quite 
‘ overshone  ; yet  always  it  reappeared,  nay  ever  waxing  broad- 
‘ er  and  broader ; till  in  after-years  it  almost  overshadowed 
‘my  whole  canopy,  and  threatened  to  engulf  me  in  final 
‘night.  It  was  the  ring  of  Necessity,  whereby  we  are  all  be- 
‘ girt ; happy  he  for  whom  a kind  heavenly  Sun  brightens  it 
‘ into  a ring  of  Duty,  and  plays  round  it  with  beautiful  pris- 
‘ matic  diffractions  ; yet  ever,  as  basis  and  as  bourne  for  our 
‘ whole  being,  it  is  there. 

‘ For  the  first  few  years  of  our  terrestrial  Apprenticeship, 
‘ we  have  not  much  wrork  to  do  ; but,  boarded  and  lodged 
‘ gratis,  are  set  down  mostly  to  look  about  us  over  the  work- 
‘ shop,  and  see  others  work,  till  we  have  understood  the  tools 
‘a little,  and  can  handle  this  and  that.  If  good  Passivity 
‘alone,  and  not  good  Passivity  and  good  Activity  together, 
‘were  the  thing  wanted,  then  was  my  early  position  favour- 
‘ able  beyond  the  most.  In  all  that  respects  openness  of  Sense, 

‘ affectionate  Temper,  ingenuous  Curiosity,  and  the  fostering 
'of  these,  what  more  could  I have  wished?  On  the  other 
side,  however,  things  went  not  so  well.  My  Active  Power 
‘ (ThatJcraft)  was  unfavourably  hemmed  in;  of  which  mis- 
‘ fortune  how  many  traces  yet  abide  with  me ! In  an  orderly 
‘ house,  where  the  litter  of  children’s  sports  is  hateful  enough, 

‘ your  training  is  too  stoical ; rather  to  bear  and  forbear  than 
‘ to  make  and  do.  I was  forbid  much : wishes  in  any  measure 
‘ bold  I had  to  renounce  ; everywhere  a strait  bond  of  Obe- 


IDYLLIC. 


85 


* dience  inflexibly  held  me  down.  Thus  already  Freewill 
‘ often  came  in  painful  collision  with  Necessity  ; so  that  my 
i tears  flowed,  and  at  seasons  the  Child  itself  might  taste  that 

* root  of  bitterness,  wherewith  the  whole  fruitage  of  our  life 
6 is  mingled  and  tempered. 

4 In  which  habituation  to  Obedience,  truly,  it  was  beyond 
€ measure  safer  to  err  by  excess  than  by  defect.  Obedience 

* is  our  universal  duty  and  destiny  ; wherein  whoso  will  not 

* bend  must  break  : too  early  and  too  thoroughly  we  cannot 
‘ be  trained  to  know  that  Would,  in  this  world  of  ours,  is  as 

* mere  zero  to  Should,  and  for  most  part  as  the  smallest  of 
‘ fractions  even  to  Shall.  Hereby  was  laid  for  me  the  basis 
‘ of  worldly  Discretion,  nay,  of  Morality  itself.  Let  me  not 
‘ quarrel  with  my  upbringing  ! It  was  rigorous,  too  frugal, 
‘ compressively  secluded,  everyway  unscien  title  : yet  in  that 
£ very  strictness  and  domestic  solitude  might  there  not  lie  the 
c root  of  deeper  earnestness,  of  the  stem  from  which  all  noble 
‘ fruit  must  grow  ? Above  all,  how  unskilful  soever,  it  was 
‘ loving,  it  was  well-meant,  honest  ; whereby  every  deficiency 
c was  helped.  My  kind  Mother,  for  as  such  I must  ever  love 
‘ the  good  Gretchen,  did  me  one  altogether  invaluable  service  : 
‘ she  taught  me,  less  indeed  by  word  than  by  act  and  daily 
‘ reverent  look  and  habitude,  her  own  simple  version  of  the 
‘ Christian  Faith.  Andreas  too  attended  Church  ; yet  more 

* like  a parade  duty  for  which  he  in  the  other  world  expected 

* pay  with  arrears, — as,  I trust,  he  has  received ; but  my 
‘ Mother,  with  a true  woman’s  heart,  and  fine  though  uncul- 
‘ tivated  sense,  was  in  the  strictest  acceptation  Beligious. 
4 How  indestructibly  the  Good  grows,  and  propagates  itself, 

* even  among  the  weedy  entanglements  of  Evil ! The  highest 
€ whom  I knew  on  Earth  I here  saw  bowed  down,  with  awe 
4 unspeakable,  before  a Higher  in  Heaven : such  things,  es- 
4 pecially  in  infancy,  reach  inwards  to  the  very  core  of  your 
4 being ; mysteriously  does  a Holy  of  Holies  build  itself  into 
‘ visibility  in  the  mysterious  deeps  ; and  Beverence,  the  di- 

* vinest  in  man,  springs  forth  undying  from  its  mean  envelop 
4 ment  of  Fear.  Wouldst  thou  rather  be  a peasant’s  son  that 
4 knew,  were  it  never  so  rudely,  there  was  a God  in  Heaven 


86 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


c and  in  Man  ; or  a duke’s  son  that  only  knew  there  were  two 
‘ and  thirty  quarters  on  the  family-coach  ? ’ 

To  which  last  question  we  must  answer  : Beware,  O Teufels- 
drockh,  of  spiritual  pride ! 


CHAPTER  HI. 

PEDAGOGY. 

Hitherto  we  see  young  Gneschen,  in  his  indivisible  case  of 
yellow  serge,  borne  forward  mostly  on  the  arms  of  kind  Nature 
alone  ; seated,  indeed,  and  much  to  his  mind,  in  the  terrestrial 
workshop  ; but  (except  his  soft  hazel  eyes,  which  we  doubt 
not  already  gleamed  with  a still  intelligence)  called  upon  for 
little  voluntary  movement  there.  Hitherto  accordingly  his 
aspect  is  rather  generic,  that  of  an  incipient  Philosopher  and 
Poet  in  the  abstract : perhaps  it  would  puzzle  Herr  Heusch- 
recke  himself  to  say  wherein  the  Special  Doctrine  of  Clothes 
is  as  yet  foreshadowed  or  betokened.  For  with  Gneschen,  as 
with  others,  the  Man  may  indeed  stand  pictured  in  the  Boy 
(at  least  all  the  pigments  are  there) ; yet  only  some  half  of  the 
Man  stands  in  the  Child,  or  young  Boy,  namely,  his  Passive 
endowment,  not  his  Active.  The  more  impatient  are  we  to 
discover  what  figure  he  cuts  in  this  latter  capacity  ; how  when, 
to  use  his  own  words,  4 he  understands  the  tools  a little,  and 
can  handle  this  or  that,’  he  will  proceed  to  handle  it. 

Here,  however,  may  be  the  place  to  state  that,  in  much  of 
our  Philosopher’s  history,  there  is  something  of  an  almost  Hin- 
doo character  : nay,  perhaps  in  that  so  well  fostered  and  every- 
way excellent  ‘ Passivity  ’ of  his,  which,  with  no  free  develop- 
ment of  the  antagonist  Activity,  distinguished  his  childhood, 
we  may  detect  the  rudiments  of  much  that,  in  after-days,  and 
still  in  these  present  days,  astonishes  the  world.  For  the 
shallow-sighted  Teufelsdrockh  is  oftenest  a man  without  Activ- 
ity of  any  kind,  a No-man  ; for  the  deep-sighted,  again,  a man 
with  Activity  almost  superabundant,  yet  so  spiritual,  close- 
hidden,  enigmatic,  that  no  mortal  can  foresee  its  explosions, 
or  even  when  it  has  exploded,  so  much  as  ascertain  its  signifi- 


PEDAGOGY . 


87 


cance.  A dangerous,  difficult  temper  for  the  modern  Euro- 
pean above  all,  disadvantageous  in  the  hero  of  a Biography  ! 
Now  as  heretofore  it  will  behove  the  Editor  of  these  pages, 
were  it  never  so  unsuccessfully,  to  do  his  endeavour. 

Among  the  earliest  tools  of  any  complicacy  which  a man, 
especially  a man  of  letters,  gets  to  handle,  are  his  Class-books. 
On  this  portion  of  his  History,  Teufelsdrockh  looks  down  pro- 
fessedly as  indifferent.  Beading  he  4 cannot  remember  ever 
to  have  learned  ; ’ so  perhaps  had  it  by  nature.  He  says  gen- 
erally : 4 Of  the  insignificant  portion  of  my  Education,  which 
£ depended  on  Schools,  there  need  almost  no  notice  be  taken. 
4 I learned  what  others  learnt ; and  kept  it  stored  by  in  a cor- 
4 ner  of  my  head,  seeing  as  yet  no  manner  of  use  in  it.  My 
4 Schoolmaster,  a down-bent,  brokenhearted,  underfoot  mar- 
4 tyr,  as  others  of  that  guild  are,  did  little  for  me,  except  dis- 
4 cover  that  he  could  do  little  : he,  good  soul,  pronounced  me 
4 a genius,  fit  for  the  learned  professions  ; and  that  I must  be 
4 sent  to  the  Gymnasium,  and  one  day  to  the  University. 
4 Meanwhile,  what  printed  thing  soever  I could  meet  with  I 
4 read.  My  very  copper  pocket-money  I laid  out  on  stall  litera- 
4 ture  ; which,  as  it  accumulated,  I with  my  own  hands  sewed 
4 into  volumes.  By  this  means  was  the  young  head  furnished 
4 with  a considerable  miscellany  of  things  and  shadows  of 
4 things : History  in  authentic  fragments  lay  mingled  with 
4 Fabulous  chimeras,  wherein  also  was  reality  ; and  the  whole 
4 not  as  dead  stuff,  but  as  living  pabulum,  tolerably  nutritive 
4 for  a mind  not  yet  so  peptic.’ 

That  the  Entepfuhl  Schoolmaster  judged  well,  we  now 
know.  Indeed,  already  in  the  youthful  Gneschen,  with  all  his 
outward  stillness,  there  may  have  been  manifest  an  inward 
vivacity  that  promised  much ; symptoms  of  a spirit  singularly 
open,  thoughtful,  almost  poetical.  Thus,  to  say  nothing  of 
his  Suppers  on  the  Orchard-wall,  and  other  phenomena  of 
that  earlier  period,  have  many  readers  of  these  pages  stumbled, 
in  their  twelfth  year,  on  such  reflections  as  the  following?  4 It 
4 struck  me  much,  as  I sat  by  the  Kuhbach,  one  silent  noon- 
4 tide,  and  watched  it  flowing,  gurgling,  to  think  how  this 
4 same  streamlet  had  flowed  and  gurgled,  through  all  changes 


88 


SARTOR  RESARTUS . 


‘ of  weather  and  of  fortune,  from  beyond  the  earliest  date  of 
‘ History.  Yes,  probably  on  the  morning  when  Joshua  forded 
‘ Jordan  ; even  as  at  the  mid-day  when  Caesar  doubtless  with 
c difficulty,  swam  the  Nile,  yet  kept  his  Commentaries  dry, — 
‘ this  little  Kulibach,  assiduous  as  Tiber,  Eurotas  or  Siloa,  was 
4 murmuring  on  across  the  wilderness,  as  yet  unnamed,  un- 
‘ seen ; here,  too,  as  in  the  Euphrates  and  the  Ganges,  is  a 
‘ vein  or  veinlet  of  the  grand  World-circulation  of  Waters, 
‘ which,  with  its  atmospheric  arteries,  has  lasted  and  lasts 
‘ simply  with  the  World.  Thou  fool ! Nature  alone  is  an- 
‘ tique,  and  the  oldest  Art  a mushroom  ; that  idle  crag  thou 
‘ sittest  on  is  six  thousand  years  of  age.’  In  which  little 
thought,  as  in  a little  fountain,  may  there  not  lie  the  begin- 
ning or  those  well-nigh  unutterable  meditations  on  the  gran- 
deur and  mystery  of  Time,  and  its  relation  to  Eternity,  which 
play  such  a part  in  this  Philosophy  of  Clothes  ? 

Over  his  Gymnastic  and  Academic  years  the  Professor  by 
no  means  lingers  so  lyrical  and  joyful  as  over  his  childhood. 
Green  sunny  tracts  there  are  still ; but  intersected  by  bitter 
rivulets  of  tears,  here  and  there  stagnating  into  sour  marshes 
of  discontent.  c With  my  first  view  of  the  Hinterschlag  Gym- 
‘ nasium/  writes  he,  c my  evil  days  began.  Well  do  I still  re- 
‘ member  the  red  sunny  Whitsuntide  morning,  when  trotting 
‘ full  of  hope,  by  the  side  of  Father  Andreas,  I entered  the 
4 main  street  of  the  place,  and  saw  its  steeple  clock  (then 
‘ striking  Eight)  and  Schuldthurm  (Jail),  and  the  aproned  or 

* disaproned  Burghers  moving  in  to  breakfast : a little  dog, 

* in  mad  terror,  was  rushing  past ; for  some  human  imps  had 
‘ tied  a tin  kettle  to  its  tail ; thus  did  the  agonised  creature, 
‘ loud  jingling,  career  through  the  whole  length  of  the 

* Borough,  and  become  notable  enough.  Fit  emblem  of  many 
‘ a Conquering  Hero,  to  whom  Fate  (wedding  Fantasy  to 
‘ Sense,  as  it  often  elsewhere  does)  has  malignantly  appended 
( a tin  kettle  of  Ambition,  to  chase  him  on  ; which,  the  faster 

* he  runs,  urges  him  the  faster,  the  more  loudly  and  more 

* foolishly  ! Fit  emblem  also  of  much  that  awaited  myself,  in 

* that  mischievous  Den ; as  in  the  world,  whereof  it  was  a 
‘ portion  and  epitome ! 


PEDAGOGY. 


89 


‘ Alas,  tlie  kind  beech-rows  of  Entepfnhl  were  hidden  in  the 
£ distance  : I was  among  strangers,  harshly,  at  best  indiffer- 
‘ ently,  disposed  towards  me  ; the  young  heart  felt,  for  the 
‘ first  time,  quite  orphaned  and  alone/  His  schoolfellows,  as 
is  usual,  persecuted  him  : ‘They  were  Boys,’  he  says,  ‘mostly 
‘ rude  Boys,  and  obeyed  the  impulse  of  rude  Nature,  which 
‘ bids  the  deerherd  fall  upon  any  stricken  hart,  the  duck-flock 
‘ put  to  death  any  broken-winged  brother  or  sister,  and  on  all 
‘ hands  the  strong  tyrannise  over  the  weak/  He  admits  that 
though  ‘perhaps  in  an  unusual  degree  morally  courageous/ 
he  succeeded  ill  in  battle,  and  would  fain  have  avoided  it ; a 
result,  as  it  would  appear,  owing  less  to  his  small  personal 
stature  (for  in  passionate  seasons,  he  was  ‘ incredibly  nimble 5 ), 
than  to  his  ‘ virtuous  principles  : ’ ‘ if  it  was  disgraceful  to  be 
‘ beaten/  says  he,  ‘it  was  only  a shade  less  disgraceful  to  have 
‘ so  much  as  fought ; thus  was  I drawn  two  ways  at  once,  and 
‘ in  this  important  element  of  school-history,  the  war  element, 

‘ had  little  but  sorrow/  On  the  whole,  that  same  excellent 
‘ Passivity/  so  notable  in  Teufelsdrockh’s  childhood,  is  here 
visibly  enough  again  getting  nourishment.  ‘ He  wept  often  ; 
‘ indeed  to  such  a degree  that  he  was  nicknamed  Der  Wei - 
‘ nende  (the  Tearful),  which  epithet,  till  towards  his  thirteenth 
‘ year,  was  indeed  not  quite  unmerited.  Only  at  rare  inter- 
‘ vals  did  the  young  soul  burst  forth  into  fire-eyed  rage,  and, 
‘ with  a Stormfulness  ( Ungestum)  under  which  the  boldest 
‘ quailed,  assert  that  he  too  had  Bights  of  Man,  or  at  least  of 
‘ Mankin/  In  all  which,  who  does  not  discern  a fine  flower- 
tree  and  cinnamon-tree  (of  genius)  nigh  choked  among  pump- 
kins, reedgrass,  and  ignoble  shrubs  ; and  forced,  if  it  would 
live,  to  struggle  upwards  only,  and  not  outwards  ; into  a height 
quite  sickly,  and  disproportioned  to  its  breadth  ? 

We  find,  moreover,  that  his  Greek  and  Latin  were  ‘ mechan- 
ically 9 taught  ; Hebrew  scarce  even  mechanically  ; much  else 
which  they  call  History,  Cosmography,  Philosophy,  and  so 
forth,  no  better  than  not  at  all.  So  that,  except  inasmuch  as 
Nature  was  still  busy  ; and  he  himself  ‘ went  about,  as  was  of 
old  his  wont,  among  the  Craftsmen’s  workshops,  there  learn- 
ing many  things  ; 5 and  farther  lighted  on  some  small  store  of 


90 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


curious  reading,  in  Hans  Wachtel  the  Cooper’s  house,  where 
he  lodged, — his  time,  it  would  appear,  was  utterly  wasted. 
Which  facts  the  Professor  had  not  yet  learned  to  look  upon 
with  any  contentment.  Indeed,  throughout  the  whole  of  this 
Bag  Scorpio , where  we  now  are,  and  often  in  the  following 
Bag,  he  shews  himself  unusually  animated  on  the  matter  of 
Education,  and  not  without  some  touch  of  what  we  might 
presume  to  be  anger. 

‘ My  teachers/  says  he,  ‘ were  hide-bound  Pedants,  without 
6 knowledge  of  man’s  nature  or  of  bey’s  ; or  of  aught  save 
‘ their  lexicons  and  quarterly  account-books.  Innumerable 
c dead  Vocables  (no  dead  Language,  for  they  themselves  knew 
‘ no  Language)  they  crammed  into  us,  and  called  it  fostering 
‘ the  growdh  of  mind.  How  can  an  inanimate,  mechanical 

* Gerund-grinder,  the  like  of  whom  will,  in  a subsequent  cen- 
( tury,  be  manufactured  at  Niirnberg  out  of  wood  and  leather, 

* foster  the  growth  of  anything  ; much  more  of  Mind,  which 
c grows,  not  like  a vegetable  (by  having  its  roots  littered  with 
< etymological  compost),  but  like  a Spirit,  by  mysterious  con- 

* tact  of  Spirit ; Thought  kindling  itself  at  the  fire  of  living 
€ Thought  ? Plow  shall  he  give  kindling,  in  whose  own  inward 

* man  there  is  no  live  coal,  but  all  is  burnt  out  to  a dead 
‘ grammatical  cinder  ? The  Hinterschlag  Professors  knew 

* Syntax  enough  ; and  of  the  human  soul  thus  much  : that  it 

* had  a faculty  called  Memory,  and  could  be  acted  on  through 

* the  muscular  integument  by  appliance  of  birch  rods. 

‘ Alas,  so  is  it  everywhere,  so  will  it  ever  be  ; till  the  Hod- 

* man  is  discharged,  or  reduced  to  Hodbearing  ; and  an  Archi- 

* tect  is  hired,  and  on  all  hands  fitly  encouraged  ; till  com- 
‘ munities  and  individuals  discover,  not  without  surprise,  that 
‘ fashioning  the  souls  of  a generation  by  Knowledge  can  rank 
‘ on  a level  with  blowing  their  bodies  to  pieces  by  Gunpow- 
‘ der  ; that  with  Generals  and  Field-marshals  for  killing,  there 
‘ should  be  world-honoured  Dignitaries,  and  were  it  possible, 
‘ true  God-ordained  Priests,  for  teaching.  But  as  yet,  though 
‘ the  soldier  wears  openly,  and  even  parades,  his  butchering- 

* tool,  nowhere,  far  as  I have  travelled,  did  the  Schoolmaster 
4 make  show  of  his  instructing-tool : nay  were  he  to  walk 


PEDAGOGY. 


91 


* abroad  with  birch  girt  on  thigh,  as  if  he  therefrom  expected 

* honour,  would  there  not,  among  the  idler  class,  perhaps  a 

* certain  levity  be  excited  ? ’ 

In  the  third  year  of  this  Gymnasic  period,  Father  Andreas 
seems  to  have  died : the  young  Scholar,  otherwise  so  mal- 
treated, saw  himself  for  the  first  time  clad  outwardly  in  sables, 
and  inwardly  in  quite  inexpressible  melancholy.  £ The  dark 
£ bottomless  Abyss,  that  lies  under  our  feet,  had  yawned  open  ; 
‘ the  palo  kingdoms  of  Death,  with  all  their  innumerable  silent 
£ nations  and  generations  stood  before  him ; the  inexorable 
£ word,  Never  ! now  first  shewed  its  meaning.  My  Mother 
‘ wept,  and  her  sorrow  got  vent ; but  in  my  heart  there  lay  a 
‘ whole  lake  of  tears,  pent  up  in  silent  desolation.  Neverthe- 
( less,  the  unworn  Spirit  is  strong  ; Life  is  so  healthful  that 
‘ it  even  finds  nourishment  in  Death  : these  stern  experiences, 
' planted  down  by  Memory  in  my  Imagination,  rose  there  to 
£ a whole  cypress-forest,  sad  but  beautiful ; waving,  with  not 
£ unmelodious  sighs,  in  dark  luxuriance,  in  the  hottest  sun- 
£ shine,  through  long  years  of  youth  : — as  in  manhood  also  it 
£ does,  and  will  do  ; for  I have  now  pitched  my  tent  under  a 
£ Cypress-tree  ; the  Tomb  is  now  my  inexpugnable  Fortress, 
£ ever  close  by  the  gate  of  which  I look  upon  the  hostile  anna- 
£ ments,  and  pains  and  penalties,  of  tyrannous  Life  placidly 
£ enough,  and  listen  to  its  loudest  threatenings  with  a still 
£ smile.  O ye  loved  ones,  that  already  sleep  in  the  noiseless 
£ Bed  of  Best,  whom  in  life  I could  only  weep  for  and  never 
£ help  ; and  ye,  who  wide-scattered  still  toil  lonely  in  the  mon- 

* ster-bearing  Desert,  dyeing  the  flinty  ground  with  your  blood, 

£ — yet  a little  while,  and  we  shall  all  meet  there,  and  our 
£ Mother’s  bosom  will  screen  us  all ; and  Oppression’s  harness, 

£ and  Sorrow’s  fire-whip,  and  all  the  Gehenna  Bailiffs  that 

* patrol  and  inhabit  ever-vexed  Time,  cannot  thenceforth  harm 
£ us  any  more  ! ’ 

Close  by  which  rather  beautiful  apostrophe,  lies  a laboured 
Character  of  the  deceased  Andreas  Futteral ; of  his  natural 
ability,  his  deserts  in  life  (as  Prussian  Sergeant) ; with  long 
historical  inquiries  into  the  genealogy  of  the  Futteral  Family, 
here  traced  back  as  far  as  Henry  the  Fowler : the  whole  v* 


92 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


Which  we  pass  over,  not  without  astonishment.  It  only  con- 
cerns us  to  add,  that  now  was  the  time  when  Mother  Gretchen 
revealed  to  her  foster-son  that  he  was  not  at  all  of  this  kin- 
dred ; or  indeed  of  any  kindred,  having  come  into  historical 
existence  in  the  way  already  known  to  us.  ‘Thus  was  I 
'doubly  orphaned/ says  he  ; ‘bereft  not  only  of  Possession* 
but  even  of  Remembrance.  Sorrow  and  Wonder,  here  sud- 
* denly  united,  could  not  but  produce  abandoned  fruit.  Such 
‘ a disclosure,  in  such  a season  struck  its  roots  through  my 
‘ whole  nature  ; ever  till  the  years  of  mature  manhood,  it  min- 
‘ gled  with  my  whole  thoughts,  was  as  the  stem  whereon  all 
‘my  day-dreams  and  night-dreams  grew.  A certain  poetic 
‘elevation,  yet  also  a corresponding  civic  depression,  it  nat- 
‘ urally  imparted : I was  like  no  other : in  which  fixed-idea, 
‘ leading  sometimes  to  highest,  and  oftener  to  frightfulest 
‘ results,  may  there  not  lie  the  first  spring  of  Tendencies, 

‘ which  in  my  Life  have  become  remarkable  enough  ? As  in 
‘ birth,  so  in  action,  speculation,  and  social  position,  my  fel- 
lows are  perhaps  not  numerous/ 

In  the  Bag  Sagittarius , as  we  at  length  discover  Teufels- 
drockh  has  become  a University  man  ; though  how,  when,  or 
of  what  quality,  will  nowhere  disclose  itself  with  the  smallest 
certainty.  Few  things,  in  the  way  of  confusion  and  capri- 
cious indistinctness,  can  now  surprise  our  readers ; not  even 
the  total  want  of  dates,  almost  without  parallel  in  a Biographi- 
cal work.  So  enigmatic,  so  chaotic  we  have  always  found, 
and  must  always  look  to  find,  these  scattered  Leaves.  In 
Sagittarius , however,  Teufelsdrockh  begins  to  shew  himself 
even  more  than  usually  Sibylline ; fragments  of  all  sorts  ; 
scraps  of  regular  Memoir,  College  Exercises,  Programs,  Pro- 
fessional Testimonials,  Milkscores,  torn  Billets,  sometimes  to 
appearance  of  an  amatory  cast  ; all  blown  together  as  if  by 
merest  chance,  henceforth  bewilder  the  sane  Historian.  To 
combine  any  picture  of  these  University,  and  the  subsequent, 
years  ; much  more,  to  decipher  therein  any  illustrative  pri- 
mordial elements  of  the  Clothes-Philosophy,  becomes  such  a 
problem  as  the  reader  may  imagine. 

So  much  we  can  see  ; darkly,  as  through  the  foliage  of  some 


PEDAGOGY. 


93 


wavering  thicket : a youth  of  no  common  endowment,  who 
has  passed  happily  through  Childhood,  less  happily  yet  still 
yigourously  through  Boyhood,  now  at  length  perfect  in  £ dead 
vocables/  and  set  down,  as  he  hopes,  by  the  living  Fountain, 
there  to  superadd  Ideas  and  Capabilities.  From  such  Fountain 
he  draws,  diligently,  thirstily,  yet  nowise  with  his  whole  heart, 
for  the  water  nowise  suits  his  palate  ; discouragements,  en- 
tanglements, aberrations  are  discoverable  or  supposable.  Nor 
perhaps  are  even  pecuniary  distresses  wanting  ; for  £ the  good 
£ Gretchen,  who  in  spite  of  advices  from  not  disinterested  rela- 
‘ tives  has  sent  him  hither,  must  after  a time  withdraw  her 
‘willing  but  too  feeble  hand/  Nevertheless,  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  Poverty  and  manifold  Chagrin,  the  Humour  of  that 
young  Soul,  what  character  is  in  him,  first  decisively  reveals 
itself  ; and,  like  strong  sunshine  in  weeping  skies,  gives  out 
variety  of  colours,  some  of  which  are  prismatic.  Thus,  with 
the  aid  of  Time,  and  of  what  Time  brings,  has  the  stripling 
Diogenes  Teufelsdrockh  waxed  into  manly  stature  ; and  into 
so  questionable  an  aspect,  that  we  ask  with  new  eagerness 
How  he  specially  came  by  it,  and  regret  anew  that  there  is  no 
more  explicit  answer.  Certain  of  the  intelligible  and  partially 
significant  fragments,  which  are  few  in  number,  shall  be  ex- 
tracted from  that  Limbo  of  a Paper-bag,  and  presented  with 
the  usual  preparation. 

As  if,  in  the  Bag  Scorpio , Teufelsdrockh  had  not  already 
expectorated,  his  antipedagogic  spleen  ; as  if,  from  the  name 
Sagittarius , he  had  thought  himself  called  upon  to  shoot 
arrows,  we  here  again  fall  in  with  such  matter  as  this  : £ The 
£ University  where  I was  educated  still  stands  vivid  enough  in 
£ my  remembrance,  and  I know  its  name  well ; which  name, 

£ however,  I,  from  tenderness  to  existing  interests  and  per- 
£ sons,  shall  in  no  wise  divulge.  It  is  my  painful  duty  to 
£ say  that,  out  of  England  and  Spain,  ours  was  the  worst  of 
£ all  hitherto  discovered  Universities.  This  is  indeed  a time 
‘ when  right  Education  is,  as  nearly  as  may  be,  impossible  : 
£ however,  in  degrees  of  wrongness  there  is  no  limit : nay,  I 
£ can  conceive  a worse  system  than  that  of  the  Nameless  it- 
‘ self ; as  poisoned  victual  may  be  worse  than  absolute  hunger. 


94 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 It  is  written,  When  the  blind  lead  the  blind,  both  shall  fall 
4 into  the  ditch  ; wherefore,  in  such  circumstances,  may  it 
4 not  sometimes  be  safer,  if  both  leader  and  led  simply — sit 
4 still  ? Had  you,  anywhere  in  Crim  Tartary,  walled-in  a 
4 square  enclosure ; furnished  it  with  a small,  ill-chosen 
4 Library ; and  then  turned  loose  into  it  eleven  hundred 

* Christian  striplings,  to  tumble  about  as  they  listed,  from 
4 three  to  seven  years  : certain  persons,  under  the  title  of 
4 Professors,  being  stationed  at  the  gates,  to  declare  aloud 
4 that  it  was  a University,  and  exact  considerable  admission- 
4 fees, — you  had,  not  indeed  in  mechanical  structure,  yet  in 
4 spirit  and  result,  some  imperfect  resemblance  of  our  High 
4 Seminary.  I say,  imperfect ; for  if  our  mechanical  structure 
4 was  quite  other,  so  neither  was  our  result  altogether  the 

* same  : unhappily,  we  were  not  in  Crim  Tartary,  but  in  a 
4 corrupt  European  city,  full  of  smoke  and  sin  ; moreover,  in 
4 the  middle  of  a Public,  which,  without  far  costlier  apparatus, 

' than  that  of  the  Square  Enclosure,  and  Declaration  aloud, 
4 you  could  not  be  sure  of  gulling. 

4 Gullible,  however,  by  fit  apparatus,  all  Publics  are  ; and 
4 gulled,  with  the  most  surprising  profit.  Towards  any  thing 
4 like  a Statistics  of  Imposture , indeed,  little  as  yet  has  been 
4 done : with  a strange  indifference,  our  Economists,  nigh 
4 buried  under  Tables  for  minor  Branches  of  Industry,  have 
4 altogether  overlooked  the  grand  all-overtopping  Hypocrisy 
4 Branch ; as  if  our  wThole  arts  of  Puffery,  of  Quackery, 

4 Priestcraft,  Kingcraft,  and  the  innumerable  other  crafts  and 
4 mysteries  of  that  genus,  had  not  ranked  in  Productive  In- 
4 dustry  at  all ! Can  any  one,  for  example,  so  much  as  say, 
c What  moneys,  in  Literature  and  Shoe-blacking,  are  realized 
6 by  actual  Instruction  and  actual  jet  Polish  ; what  by  ficti- 

* tious-persuasive  Proclamation  of  such  ; specifying,  in  dis- 
4 tinct  items,  the  distributions,  circulations,  disbursements, 

4 incoming’s  of  said  moneys,  with  the  smallest  approach  to 
4 accuracy  ? But  to  ask,  How  far,  in  all  the  several  infinitely 
4 complected  departments  of  social  business,  in  government, 

4 education,  in  manual,  commercial,  intellectual  fabrication  of 
4 every  sort,  man’s  Want  is  supplied  by  true  Ware  ; how  far 


PEDAGOGY. 


95 


€ by  tbe  mere  Appearance  of  true  Ware  : — in  other  words,  To 
‘ what  extent,  by  what  methods,  with  what  effects,  in  various 
£ times  and  countries,  Deception  takes  the  place  and  wages  of 
£ Performance  ; here  truly  is  an  Inquiry  big  with  results  for 
£ the  future  time,  but  to  which  hitherto  only  the  vaguest 
£ answer  can  be  given.  If  for  the  present,  in  our  Europe,  we 
£ estimate  the  ratio  of  Ware  to  Appearance  of  Ware  so  high 
£ even  as  at  One  to  a Hundred  (which  considering  the  Wages 
' of  a Pope,  Russian  Autocrat,  English  Game-Preserver,  is 
£ probably  not  far  from  the  mark), — what  almost  prodigious 
£ saving  may  there  not  be  anticipated,  as  the  Statistics  of  Im- 
‘ posture  advances,  and  so  the  manufacturing  of  Shams  (that 
£ of  Realities  rising  into  clearer  and  clearer  distinction  there- 
£ from)  gradually  declines,  and  at  length  becomes  all  but 
£ wholly  unnecessary ! 

£ This  for  the  coming  golden  ages.  What  I had  to  remark, 
£ for  the  present  brazen  one,  is,  that  in  several  provinces,  as 
£ in  Education,  Polity,  Religion,  where  so  much  is  wanted 
£ and  indispensable,  and  so  little  can  as  yet  be  furnished, 
£ probably  Imposture  is  of  sanative,  anodyne  nature,  and 
£ man’s  Gullibility  not  his  worst  blessing.  Suppose  your 
£ sinews  of  war  quite  broken  ; I mean  your  military  chest  in- 
£ solvent,  forage  all  but  exhausted  ; and  that  the  whole  army 
£ is  about  to  mutiny,  disband,  and  cut  your  and  each  other’s 
£ throat, — then  were  it  not  well  could  you,  as  if  by  miracle, 
£ pay  them  in  any  sort  of  fairy-money,  feed  them  on  coagu- 
£ lated  water,  or  mere  imagination  of  meat ; whereby,  till  the 
£ real  supply  came  up,  they  might  be  kept  together,  and  quiet? 
£ Such  perhaps  was  the  aim  of  Nature,  who  does  nothing  with- 
£ out  aim,  in  furnishing  her  favourite,  Man,  with  this  his  so 
£ omnipotent  or  rather  omnipatient  Talent  of  being  Gulled. 

£ How  beautifully  it  works,  with  a little  mechanism ; nay, 
£ almost  makes  mechanism  for  itself ! These  Professors  in 
£ the  Nameless  lived  with  ease,  with  safety,  by  a mere  Repu- 
£ tation  constructed  in  past  times,  and  then  too  with  no  great 
£ effort  by  quite  another  class  of  persons.  Which  Reputation, 

£ like  a strong  brisk-going  undershot-wheel,  sunk  into  the 
£ general  current,  bade  fair,  with  only  a little  annual  repaint- 


96 


Sartor  resartus. 


€ in g on  their  part,  to  hold  long  together,  and  of  its  own  ac- 
' cord  assiduously  grind  for  them.  Happy  that  it  was  so,  for 

* the  Millers  ! They  themselves  needed  not  to  work  ; their  at- 
c tempts  at  working,  at  wliat  they  called  Educating,  now  when 
c I look  back  on  it,  fill  me  with  a certain  mute  admiration. 

‘ Besides  all  this,  we  boasted  ourselves  a Rational  Univer- 
c sity  ; in  the  highest  degree,  hostile  to  Mysticism  ; thus  was 
‘ the  young  vacant  mind  furnished  with  much  talk  about 
‘ Progress  of  the  Species,  Dark  Ages,  Prejudice,  and  the  like  ; 
( so  that  all  were  quickly  enough  blown  out  into  a state  of 
‘ windy  argumentativeness  ; whereby  the  better  sort  had  soon 

* to  end  in  sick,  impotent  Scepticism  ; the  worser  sort  ex- 
c plode  ( crepiren ) in  finished  Self-conceit,  and  to  all  spiritual 
6 intents  become  dead. — But  this  too  is  portion  of  mankind’s 
c lot.  If  our  era  is  the  Era  of  Unbelief  why  murmur  under 
c it ; is  there  not  a better  coming,  nay  come  ? As  in  long- 
‘ drawn  Systole  and  longdrawn  Diastole,  must  the  period  of 
‘ Faith  alternate  with  the  period  of  Denial ; must  the  vernal 
c growth,  the  summer  luxuriance  of  all  Opinions,  Spiritual 
c Representations  and  Creations,  be  followed  by,  and  again 
‘ follow,  the  autumnal  decay,  the  winter  dissolution.  For 
c man  lives  in  Time,  has  his  whole  earthly  being,  endeavour, 
c and  destiny  shaped  for  him  by  Time  : only  in  the  transi- 

* tory  Time- Symbol  is  the  ever-motionless  Eternity  we  stand 
e on  made  manifest.  And  yet,  in  such  winter-seasons  of  De- 
‘ nial,  it  is  for  the  nobler-minded  perhaps  a comparative 
‘ misery  to  have  been  born,  and  to  be  awake,  and  work  ; and 
‘ for  the  duller  a felicity,  if  like  hibernating  animals,  safe- 
‘ lodged  in  some  Salamanca  University,  or  Sybaris  City,  or 
‘ other  superstitious  or  voluptuous  Castle  of  Indolence,  they  can 
‘ slumber  through,  in  stupid  dreams,  and  only  awaken  when  the 
£ loud-roaring  hailstorms  have  all  done  their  work,  and  to  our 
‘ prayers  and  martyrdoms  the  new  Spring  has  been  vouchsafed.’ 

That  in  the  environment,  here  mysteriously  enough  shad- 
owed forth,  Teufelsdrockh  must  have  felt  ill  at  ease,  cannot 
be  doubtful.  £ The  hungry  young,’  he  says,  £ looked  up  to 
‘ their  spiritual  Nurses ; and,  for  food,  were  bidden  eat  the 

* east  wind.  What  vain  jargon  of  controversial  Metaphvsic, 


PEDAGOGY . 


97 


4 Etymology,  and  mechanical  Manipulation  falsely  named 
c Science,  was  current  there,  I indeed  learned,  better  perhaps 
4 than  the  most.  Among  eleven  hundred  Christian  youths, 
4 there  will  not  be  wanting  some  eleven  eager  to  learn.  By 
‘ collision  with  such,  a certain  warmth,  a certain  polish  was 
4 communicated ; by  instinct  and  happy  accident,  I took  less 
‘ to  rioting  (renommiren),  than  to  thinking  and  reading,  which 
4 latter  also  I was  free  to  do.  Nay  from  the  chaos  of  that  Li- 
4 brary,  I succeeded  in  fishing  up  more  books  perhaps  than 
4 had  been  known  to  the  very  keepers  thereof.  The  founda- 
4 tion  of  a Literary  Life  was  hereby  laid : I learned,  on  my 
4 own  strength,  to  read  fluently  in  almost  all  cultivated  lan- 
4 guages,  on  almost  all  subjects,  and  sciences  ; farther,  as  man 
4 is  ever  the  prime  object  to  man,  already  it  was  my  favourite 
4 employment  to  read  character  in  speculation,  and  from  the 
4 Writing  to  construe  the  Writer.  A certain  groundplan  of 
4 Human  Nature  and  Life  began  to  fashion  itself  in  me  ; won- 
4 drous  enough,  now  when  I look  back  on  it ; for  my  whole 
4 Universe,  physical  and  spiritual,  was  as  yet  a Machine  ! 
4 However,  such  a conscious,  recognized  groundplan,  the  tru- 
4 est  I had,  was  beginning  to  be  there,  and  by  additional  expe- 
4 riments,  might  be  corrected  and  indefinitely  extended.’ 

Thus  from  poverty  does  the  strong  educe  nobler  wealth  ; 
thus  in  the  destitution  of  the  wild  desert,  does  our  young 
Ishmael  acquire  for  himself  the  highest  of  all  possessions, 
that  of  Self-help.  Nevertheless  a desert  this  was,  waste,  and 
howling  with  savage  monsters.  Teufelsdrockh  gives  us  long 
details  of  his  4 fever-paroxysms  of  Doubt ; ’ his  Inquiries  con- 
cerning Miracles,  and  the  Evidences  of  religious  Faith  ; and 
how  4 in  the  silent  night  watches,  still  darker  in  his  heart 
4 than  over  sky  and  earth,  he  has  cast  himself  before  the  All- 
4 seeing,  and  with  audible  prayers,  cried  vehemently  for  Light, 
4 for  deliverance  from  Death  and  the  Grave.  Not  till  after 
4 long  years,  and  unspeakable  agonies,  did  the  believing  heart 
4 surrender  ; sink  into  spell-bound  sleep,  under  the  nightmare, 
4 Unbelief ; and,  in  this  hag-ridden  dream,  mistake  God’s  fair 
‘living  world  for  a pallid,  vacant  Hades  and  extinct  Pande- 
4 monium.  But  through  such  Purgatory  pain,’  continues  he. 


98 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ it  is  appointed  us  to  pass ; first  must  the  dead  Letter  of 
‘ Religion,  own  itself  dead,  and  drop  piecemeal  into  dust,  if 
‘ the  living  Spirit  of  Religion,  freed  from  this  its  charnel-house, 
( is  to  arise  on  us,  newborn  of  Heaven,  and  with  new  healing 
£ under  its  wings.’ 

To  which  Purgatory  pains,  seemingly  severe  enough,  if  we 
add  a liberal  measure  of  Earthly  distresses,  want  of  practical 
guidance,  want  of  sympathy,  want  of  money,  want  of  hope  ; 
and  all  this  in  the  fervid  season  of  youth,  so  exaggerated  in 
imagining,  so  boundless  in  desires,  yet  here  so  poor  in  means, 
— do  we  not  see  a strong  incipient  spirit  oppressed  and  over- 
loaded from  without  and  from  within  ; the  fire  of  genius 
struggling  up  among  fuel-wood  of  the  greenest,  and  as  yet 
with  more  of  bitter  vapour  than  of  clear  flame. 

From  various  fragments  of  Letters  and  other  documentary 
scraps,  it  is  to  be  inferred  that  Teufelsdrockh,  isolated,  shy, 
retiring  as  he  was,  had  not  altogether  escaped  notice  : certain 
established  men  are  aware  of  his  existence  ; and,  if  stretching 
out  no  helpful  hand,  have  at  least  their  eyes  upon  him.  He 
appears,  though  in  dreary  enough  humour,  to  be  addressing 
himself  to  the  Profession  of  Law ; — whereof,  indeed,  the 
world  has  since  seen  him  a public  graduate.  But  omitting 
these  broken,  unsatisfactory  thrums  of  Economical  relation, 
let  us  present  rather  the  following  small  thread  of  Moral  re- 
lation ; and  therewith,  the  reader  for  himself  weaving  it  in 
at  the  right  place,  conclude  our  dim  arras  picture  of  these 
University  years. 

£ Here  also  it  was  that  I formed  acquaintance  with  Herr 
‘ Towgood,  or,  as  it  is  perhaps  better  written,  Herr  Toughgut ; 
‘ a young  person  of  quality  ( von  Adel),  from  the  interior  parts 
‘ of  England.  He  stood  connected,  by  blood  and  hospitality, 
‘ with  the  Counts  von  Zahdarm,  in  this  quarter  of  Germany  ; 
‘ to  which  noble  Family  I likewise  was,  by  his  means,  with  all 
‘ friendliness,  brought  near.  Towgood  had  a fair  talent,  un- 
‘ speakably  ill-cultivated  ; with  considerable  humour  of  char- 
‘ acter : and,  bating  his  total  ignorance,  for  he  knew  nothing 
‘ except  Boxing  and  a little  Grammar,  shewed  less  of  that 
£ aristocratic  impassivity,  and  silent  fury,  than  for  most  pal r 


RED AGOG  T. 


99 


< belongs  to  Travellers  of  his  nation.  To  him  I owe  my  first 
‘ practical  knowledge  of  the  English  and  their  ways  ; perhaps 
c also  something  of  the  partiality  with  which  I have  ever  since 
‘ regarded  that  singular  people.  Towgood  was  not  without 
‘ an  eye,  could  he  have  come  at  any  light.  Invited  doubtless 

< by  the  presence  of  the  Zahdarm  Family,  he  had  travelled 
‘ hither,  in  the  almost  frantic  hope  of  perfecting  his  studies  ; 
4 he,  whose  studies  had  as  yet  been  those  of  infancy,  hither  to 
4 a University  where  so  much  as  the  notion  of  perfection,  not 
4 to  say  the  effort  after  it,  no  longer  existed  ! Often  we  would 
4 condole  over  the  hard  destiny  of  the  Young  in  this  era : how, 

4 after  all  our  toil,  we  were  to  be  turned  out  into  the  world, 
4 with  beards  on  our  chins  indeed,  but  with  few  other 
4 attributes  of  manhood ; no  existing  thing  that  we  were 
4 trained  to  Act  on,  nothing  that  we  could  so  much  as  Believe. 

4 44  How  has  our  head  on  the  outside  a polished  Hat,”  would 
4 Towgood  exclaim,  44  and  in  the  inside  Vacancy,  or  a froth  of 
4 Vocables  and  Attorney  Logic ! At  a small  cost  men  are 
4 educated  to  make  leather  into  shoes ; but  at  a great  cost, 

4 what  am  I educated  to  make  ? By  Heaven,  Brother  ! what 
4 1 have  already  eaten  and  worn,  as  I came  thus  far,  would 
'endow  a considerable  Hospital  of  Incurables.” — 44 Man,  in- 
4 deed,”  I would  answer,  44 has  a Digestive  Faculty,  which 
4 must  be  kept  working,  were  it  even  partly  by  stealth.  But 
4 as  for  our  Miseducation,  make  not  bad  worse  ; waste  not  the 
4 time  yet  ours,  in  trampling  on  thistles  because  they  have 
'yielded  us  no  figs.  Frisch  zu  Bruder  ! Here  are  Books, 
4 and  we  have  brains  to  read  them  ; here  is  a whole  Earth  and  a 
4 whole  Heaven,  and  we  have  eyes  to  look  on  them  : Frisch  zu  ! ” 

4 Often  also  our  talk  was  gay ; not  without  brilliancy,  and 
4 even  fire.  We  looked  out  on  Life,  with  its  strange  scaffold- 
4ing,  where  all  at  once  harlequins  dance,  and  men  are  be- 
4 headed  and  quartered  : motley,  not  unterrific  was  the  aspect ; 
4 but  we  looked  on  it  like  brave  youths.  For  myself,  these  were 
4 perhaps  my  most  genial  hours.  Towards  this  young  warm- 
4 hearted,  strongheaded  and  wrongheaded  Herr  Towgood,  I 
4 was  even  near  experiencing  the  now  obsolete  sentiment  of 
'Friendship.  Yes,  foolish  Heathen  that  I was,  I felt  that, 


100 


SARTOR  RESARTUS . 


‘ under  certain  conditions,  I could  have  loved  this  man,  and 
‘ taken  him  to  my  bosom,  and  been  his  brother  once  and  al- 
‘ ways.  By  degrees,  however,  I understood  the  new  time,  and 
‘ its  wants.  If  man’s  Soul  is  indeed,  as  in  the  Finnish  Lan- 
‘ guage,  and  Utilitarian  Philosophy,  a kind  of  Stomach , what 
‘ else  is  the  true  meaning  of  Spiritual  Union  but  an  Eating 
6 together  ? Thus  we,  instead  of  Friends,  are  Dinner-guests  ; 
‘and  here  as  elsewhere  have  cast  away  chimeras.’ 

So  ends,  abruptly  as  is  usual,  and  enigmatically,  this  little 
incipient  romance.  What  henceforth  becomes  of  the  brave 
Herr  Towgood,  or  Toughgut?  He  has  dived  under,  in  the 
Autobiographical  Chaos,  and  swims  we  see  not  where.  Does 
any  reader  ‘ in  the  interior  parts  of  England  ’ know  of  such  a 
man? 


CHAPTER  IV. 

GETTING  UNDER  WaY. 

‘Thus  nevertheless,’  writes  our  Autobiographer,  apparently 
as  quitting  College,  ‘ was  there  realised  Somewhat ; namely,  I, 
‘Diogenes  Teufelsdrockh : a visible  Temporary  Figure  (Zeit- 
cbild),  occupying  some  cubic  feet  of  Space,  and  containing 
£ within  it  Forces  both  physical  and  spiritual ; hopes,  passions, 
‘ thoughts ; the  whole  wondrous  furniture,  in  more  or  less 
‘ perfection,  belonging  to  that  mystery,  a Man.  Capabilities 
‘ there  were  in  me  to  give  battle,  in  some  small  degree,  against 
‘ the  great  Empire  of  Darkness : does  not  the  very  Ditcher 
‘ and  Delver,  with  his  spade,  extinguish  many  a thistle  and 
‘ puddle  ; and  so  leave  a little  Order,  where  he  found  the  op- 
‘ posite  ? Nay  your  very  Daymoth  has  capabilities  in  this 
‘ kind  ; and  ever  organises  something  (into  its  own  Body,  if  no 
c otherwise),  which  was  before  Inorganic  ; and  of  mute  dead  air 
‘ makes  living  music,  though  only  of  the  faintest,  by  humming. 

‘ How  much  more,  one  whose  capabilities  are  spiritual ; who 
‘ has  learned,  or  begun  learning,  the  grand  thaumaturgic  art 
‘ of  Thought ! Thaumaturgic  I name  it ; for  hitherto  all 
‘Miracles  have  been  wrought  thereby,  and  henceforth  in- 
‘ numerable  will  be  wrought ; whereof  we,  even  in  these  days, 


GETTING  UNDER  WAY. 


101 


* witness  some.  Of  the  Poet’s  and  Prophet’s  inspired  Message, 

4 and  how  it  makes  and  unmakes  whole  worlds,  I shall  forbear 
4 mention  ; but  cannot  the  dullest  hear  Steam-engines  clank- 
4 ing  around  him  ? Has  he  not  seen  the  Scottish  Brassmith’s 
4 Idea  (and  this  but  a mechanical  one)  travelling  on  fire-wings 
4 round  the  Cape,  and  across  two  Oceans ; and  stronger  than 
4 any  other  Enchanter’s  Familiar,  on  all  hands  unweariedly 
‘fetching  and  carrying:  at  home,  not  only  weaving  Cloth; 
4 but  rapidly  enough  overturning  the  whole  old  system  of 
4 Society  ; and,  for  Feudalism  and  Preservation  of  the  Game, 
‘preparing  us,  by  indirect  but  sure  methods,  Industrialism 
4 and  the  Government  of  the  Wisest  ? Truly  a Thinking  Man 
4 is  the  worst  enemy  the  Prince  of  Darkness  can  have  ; every 
4 time  such  a one  announces  himself,  I doubt  not,  there  runs 
4 a shudder  through  the  Nether  Empire  ; and  new  Emissaries 
4 are  trained,  with  new  tactics,  to,  if  possible,  entrap  him,  and 
‘hoodwink  and  handcuff  him. 

4 With  such  high  vocation  had  I too,  as  denizen  of  the  TJni- 
4 verse,  been  called.  Unhappy  it  is,  however,  that  though  born 
4 to  the  amplest  Sovereignty,  in  this  way,  with  no  less  than 
4 sovereign  right  of  Peace  and  War  against  the  Time-Prince 
4 (Zeitfurst),  or  Devil,  and  all  his  Dominions,  your  coronation- 
4 ceremony  costs  such  trouble,  your  sceptre  is  so  difficult  to 
4 get  at,  or  even  to  get  eye  on  ! ’ 

By  which  last  wiredrawn  similitude,  does  Teufelsdrockh 
mean  no  more  than  that  young  men  find  obstacles  in  what  we 
call  4 getting  under  way  ? ’ ‘Not  what  I Have,’  continues  he, 
4 but  what  I Do  is  my  Kingdom.  To  each  is  given  a certain 
4 inward  Talent,  a certain  outward  Environment  of  Fortune  ; 
4 to,  each,  by  wisest  combination  of  these  two,  a certain  maxi- 
4 mum  of  Capability.  But  the  hardest  problem  were  ever  this 
4 first : To  find  by  study  of  yourself,  and  of  the  ground  you 
‘stand  on,  what  your  combined  inward  and  outward  Capa- 
4 bility  specially  is.  For,  alas,  our  young  soul  is  all  budding 
4 with  Capabilities,  and  we  see  not  yet  which  is  the  main 
4 and  true  one.  Always  too  the  new  man  is  in  a new  time, 
4 under  new  conditions  ; his  course  can  be  the  facsimile  of  no 
{ prior  one,  but  is  by  its  nature  original.  And  then  how  sel- 


102 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 dom  will  the  outward  Capability  fit  the  inward  : though  tal- 
4 ented  wonderfully  enough,  we  are  poor,  unfriendly,  dyspep- 
4 tica.1,  bashful ; nay  what  is  worse  than  all,  we  are  foolish. 
4 Thus,  in  a whole  imbroglio  of  Capabilities,  we  go  stupidly 
4 groping  about,  to  grope  which  is  ours,  and  often  clutch  the 
4 wrong  one  : in  this  mad  work,  must  several  years  of  our 
4 small  term  be  spent,  till  the  purblind  Youth,  by  practice, 
4 acquire  notions  of  distance,  and  become  a seeing  Man.  Nay, 
4 many  so  spend  their  whole  term,  and  in  ever-new  expecta- 
4 tion,  ever-new  disappointment,  shift  from  enterprise  to  en- 
4 terprise,  and  from  side  to  side  : till  at  length,  as  exasperated 
‘striplings  of  threescore  and  ten,  they  shift  into  their  last 
4 enterprise,  that  of  getting  buried. 

‘ Such,  since  the  most  of  us  are  too  ophthalmic,  would  be 
4 the  general  fate  ; were  it  not  that  one  thing  saves  us  : our 
4 Hunger.  For  on  this  ground,  as  the  prompt  nature  of  Hun- 
4 ger  is  well  known,  must  a prompt  choice  be  made  : hence 
4 have  we,  with  wise  foresight,  Indentures  and  Apprenticeships 
4 for  our  irrational  young  ; whereby,  in  due  season,  the  vague 
4 universality  of  a Man  shall  find  himself  ready-moulded  into 
4 a specific  Craftsman  ; and  so  thenceforth  work,  with  much 
4 or  with  little  waste  of  Capability  as  it  may  be  ; yet  not  with 
4 the  worst  waste,  that  of  time.  Nay  even  in  matters  spiritual, 
4 since  the  spiritual  artist  too  is  born  blind,  and  does  not,  like 
4 certain  other  creatures,  receive  sight  in  nine  days,  but  far 
4 later,  sometimes  never, — is  it  not  well  that  there  should  be 
4 what  we  call  professions,  or  Bread-studies  ( Brodtzwecke ), 
4 preappointed  us?  Here,  circling  like  the  gin-horse,  for 
4 whom  partial  or  total  blindness  is  no  evil,  the  Bread-artist 
4 can  travel  contentedly  round  and  round,  till  fancying  that  it 
4 is  forward  and  forward  ; and  realize  much  : for  himself 
6 victual ; for  the  world  an  additional  horse’s  power  in  the 
4 grand  corn-mill  or  hemp-mill  of  Economic  Society.  For  me 
4 too  had  such  a leading-string  been  provided;  only  that  it 
4 proved  a neck-halter,  and  had  nigh  throttled  me,  till  I broke 
‘ it.  Then,  in  the  words  of  Ancient  Pistol,  did  the  World  gen- 
4 erally  become  mine  oyster,  which  I,  by  strength  of  cunning, 

4 was  to  open,  as  I would  and  could.  Almost  had  I deceased 


GETTING  UNDER  WAY . 


103 


‘ (fast  war  ich  umgeTcommeri),  so  obstinately  did  it  continue 
‘shut.’ 

We  see  here,  significantly  foreshadowed,  the  spirit  of  much 
that  was  to  befall  our  Autobiographer ; the  historical  embodi- 
ment of  which,  as  it  painfully  takes  shape  in  his  Life,  Kes 
scattered,  in  dim  disastrous  details,  through  this  Bag  Pisces , 
and  those  that  follow.  A young  man  of  high  talent,  and 
high  though  still  temper,  like  a young  mettled  colt,  £ breaks 
off  his  neck-halter/  and  bounds  forth,  from  his  peculiar  man- 
ger, into  the  wide  world  ; which,  alas,  he  finds  all  rigorously 
fenced  in.  Bichest  clover-fields  tempt  his  eye  ; but  to  him 
they  are  forbidden  pasture  : either  pining  in  progressive  star- 
vation, he  must  stand  ; or,  in  mad  exasperation,  must  rush  to 
and  fro,  leaping  against  sheer  stone  walls,  which  he  cannot 
leap  over,  which  only  lacerate  and  lame  him  ; till  at  last,  after 
thousand  attempts  and  endurances,  he,  as  if  by  miracle,  clears 
his  way  : not  indeed  into  luxuriant  and  luxurious  clover,  yet 
into  a certain  bosky  wilderness  where  existence  is  still  possi- 
ble, and  Freedom  though  waited  on  by  Scarcity  is  not  with- 
out sweetness.  In  a word,  Teufelsdrockh  having  thrown  up 
his  legal  Profession,  finds  himself  without  landmark  of  out- 
ward guidance  ; whereby  his  previous  want  of  decided  Belief, 
or  inward  guidance,  is  frightfully  aggravated.  Necessity 
urges  him  on  ; Time  will  not  stop,  neither  can  he,  a Son  of 
Time  ; wild  passions  without  solacement,  wild  faculties  with- 
out employment,  ever  vex  and  agitate  him.  He  too  must 
enact  that  stern  Monodrama,  No  Object  and  no  Rest ; must 
front  its  successive  destinies,  work  through  to  its  catas- 
trophe, and  deduce  therefrom  what  moral  he  can. 

Yet  let  us  be  just  to  him,  let  us  admit  that  his  c neck-halter  ’ 
sat  nowise  easy  on  him  ; that  he  was  in  some  degree  forced 
to  break  it  off.  If  we  look  at  the  young  man’s  civic  position, 
in  this  Nameless  Capital,  as  he  emerges  from  its  Nameless  Uni- 
versity, we  can  discern  well  that  it  was  far  from  enviable.  His 
first  Law-Examination  he  has  come  through  triumphantly ; 
and  can  even  boast  that  the  Examen  Rigorosum  need  not  have 
frightened  him  : but  though  he  is  hereby  ‘ an  Auscultator  of 
respectability  ’ what  avails  it  ? There  is  next  to  no  employ- 


104 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


ment  to  be  bad.  Neither,  for  a youth  without  connexions,  is 
the  process  of  Expectation  very  hopeful  in  itself  ; nor  for  one 
of  his  disposition  much  cheered  from  without.  ‘ My  fellow 
‘ Auscultators,’  he  says,  ‘were  Auscultators : they  dressed,  and 
‘ digested,  and  talked  articulate  words  ; other  vitality  shewed 
‘ they  almost  none.  Small  speculation  in  those  eyes,  that  they 
‘ did  glare  withal ! Sense  neither  for  the  high  nor  for  the  deep? 
‘ nor  for  aught  human  or  divine,  save  only  for  the  faintest 
‘ scent  of  coming  Preferment.’  In  which  words,  indicating  a 
total  estrangement  on  the  part  of  Teufelsdrockh,  may  ihere 
not  also  lurk  traces  of  a bitterness  as  from  wounded  vanity  ? 
Doubtless  these  prosaic  Auscultators  may  have  sniffed  at  him5 
with  his  strange  ways  ; and  tried  to  hate,  and  what  was  much 
more  impossible,  to  despise  him.  Friendly  communion,  in 
any  case,  there  could  not  be  : already  has  the  young  Teufels- 
drockh left  the  other  young  geese  ; and  swims  apart,  though 
as  yet  uncertain  whether  he  himself  is  cygnet  or  gosling. 

Perhaps  too  what  little  employment  he  had  was  performed 
ill,  at  best  unpleasantly.  ‘ Great  practical  method  and  expert- 
ness ’ he  may  brag  of ; but  is  there  not  also  great  practical 
pride,  though  deep-hidden,  only  the  deeper-seated  ? So  shy 
a man  can  never  have  been  popular.  We  figure  to  ourselves, 
how  in  those  days  he  may  have  played  strange  freaks  with  his 
Independence,  and  so  forth  : do  not  his  own  words  betoken 
as  much?  ‘Like  a very  young  person,  I imagined  it  wais 
‘ with  Work  alone,  and  not  also  with  Folly  and  Sin,  in  myself 
‘ and  others,  that  I have  been  appointed  to  struggle.’  Be  this 
as  it  may,  his  progress  from  the  passive  Auscultatorship,  to- 
wards any  active  Assessorship,  is  evidently  of  the  slowest. 
By  degrees,  those  same  established  men,  once  partially  in- 
clined to  patronise  him,  seem  to  withdraw  their  countenance, 
and  give  him  up  as  ‘ a man  of  genius : ’ against  which  proced- 
ure he,  in  these  Papers,  loudly  protests.  ‘As  if,’  says  he, 
‘ the  higher  did  not  presuppose  the  lower  ; as  if  he  wiio  can 
‘ fly  into  heaven,  could  not  also  walk  post  if  he  resolved  on  it ! 
‘ But  the  world  is  an  old  woman,  and  mistakes  any  gilt  far- 
‘ thing  for  a gold  coin  ; whereby  being  often  cheated  she  will 
'thenceforth  trust  nothing  but  the  common  copper.’ 


GETTING  UNDER  WAY. 


105 


How  our  winged  sky-messenger,  unaccepted  as  a terrestrial 
runner,  contrived,  in  the  meanwhile,  to  keep  himself  from  fly- 
ing skyward  without  return,  is  not  too  clear  from  these  Docu- 
ments. Good  old  Gretchen  seems  to  have  vanished  from  the 
scene,  perhaps  from  the  Earth ; other  Horn  of  Plenty,  or  even 
of  Parsimony,  nowhere  flows  for  him ; so  that  ‘ the  prompt 
nature  of  Hunger  being  well  known/  we  are  not  without  our 
anxiety.  From  private  Tuition,  in  never  so  many  languages 
and  sciences,  the  aid  derivable  is  small ; neither,  to  use  his 
own  words,  ‘does  the  young  Adventurer  hitherto  suspect 
‘ in  himself  any  literary  gift ; but  at  best  earns  bread-and- 
‘ water  wages,  by  his  wide  faculty  of  Translation.  Neverthe- 
‘ less/  continues  he,  ‘ that  I subsisted  is  clear,  for  you  find  me 
‘ even  now  alive/  Which  fact,  however,  except  upon  the  prin- 
ciple of  our  true-hearted,  kind  old  Proverb,  that  ‘there  is  always 
life  for  a living  one/  we  must  profess  ourselves  unable  to  explain. 

Certain  Landlords’  Bills,  and  other  economic  Documents, 
bearing  the  mark  of  Settlement,  indicate  that  he  was  not  with- 
out money ; but,  like  an  independent  Hearth-holder,  if  not 
House-holder,  paid  his  way.  Here  also  occur,  among  many 
others,  two  little  mutilated  Notes,  which  perhaps  throw  light 
on  his  condition.  The  first  has  now  no  date,  or  writer’s  name, 
but  a huge  Blot ; and  runs  to  this  effect : ‘ The  (Inkblot),  tied 
‘ down  by  previous  promise,  cannot,  except  by  best  wishes, 
‘ forward  the  Herr  Teufelsdrockh’s  views  on  the  Assessorship 
‘ in  question ; and  sees  himself  under  the  cruel  necessity  of 
‘ forbearing,  for  the  present,  what  were  otherwise  his  duty 
‘ and  joy,  to  assist  in  opening  the  career  for  a man  of  genius, 
‘ on  whom  far  higher  triumphs  are  yet  waiting.’  The  other  is 
on  gilt  paper  ; and  interests  us  like  a sort  of  epistolary  mummy 
now  dead,  yet  which  once  lived  and  beneficently  worked.  We 
give  it  in  the  original : ‘ Herr  Teufelsdrockli  wird  von  der  Frau 
‘ Grdfinn,  auf  Donnerstag , zum  2Esthetischen  Thee,  schonstens 
‘ eingeladen .’ 

Thus  in  answer  to  a cry  for  solid  pudding,  whereof  there  is 
the  most  urgent  need,  comes  epigrammatically  enough,  the 
invitation  to  a wash  of  quite  fluid  JEsthetic  Tea  ! How  Teu- 
felsdrockh,  now  at  actual  handgrips  with  Destiny  herself,  may 


106 


SARTAR  RESARTUS. 


have  comported  himself  among  these  Musical  and  Literary 
Dilettanti  of  both  sexes,  like  a hungry  lion  invited  to  a feast 
of  chicbenweed,  we  can  only  conjecture.  Perhaps  in  expres- 
sive silence,  and  abstinence : otherwise  if  the  lion,  in  such 
case,  is  to  feast  at  all,  it  cannot  be  on  the  chicbenweed,  but 
only  on  the  chickens.  For  the  rest,  as  this  Frau  Grafinn  dates 
from  the  Zahdarm  House,  she  can  be  no  other  than  the  Count- 
ess and  mistress  of  the  same  ; whose  intellectual  tendencies, 
and  good  will  to  Teufelsdrockh,  whether  on  the  footing  of 
Herr  Towgood,  or  on  his  own  footing,  are  hereby  manifest. 
That  some  sort  of  relation,  indeed,  continued,  for  a time,  to 
connect  our  Autobiographer,  though  perhaps  feebly  enough, 
with  this  noble  House,  wTe  have  elsewhere  express  evidence. 
Doubtless,  if  he  expected  patronage,  it  was  in  vain  ; enough 
for  him  if  he  here  obtained  occasional  glimpses  of  the  great 
world,  from  which  we  at  one  time  fancied  him  to  have  been 
always  excluded.  ‘ The  Zahdarms/  says  he,  ‘lived  in  the  soft 
‘ sumptuous  garniture  of  Aristocracy  ; whereto  Literature  and 
‘ Art,  attracted  and  attached  from  without,  were  to  serve  as 
c the  handsomest  fringing.  It  was  to  the  Gnddigen  Frau  (her 
‘ Ladyship)  that  this  latter  improvement  was  due  : assiduously 
£ she  gathered,  dexterously  she  fitted  on,  what  fringing  was  to 
£ be  had  ; lace  or  cobweb,  as  the  place  yielded/  Was  Teufels- 
drockh also  a fringe,  of  lace  or  cobweb  ; or  promising  to  be 
such  ? ‘ With  his  Excellenz  (the  Count)/  continues  he,  c I have 

‘ more  than  once  had  the  honour  to  converse  ; chiefly  on  gen- 
‘ eral  affairs,  and  the  aspect  of  the  world,  which  he,  though 
c now  past  middle  life,  viewed  in  no  unfavourable  light ; find- 
‘ ing  indeed,  except  the  Outrooting  of  Journalism  {die  auszu - 
c rottende  Journalistik),  little  to  desiderate  therein.  On  some 
* points,  as  his  Excellenz  was  not  uncholeric,  I found  it  more 
‘ pleasant  to  keep  silence.  Besides,  his  occupation  being  that 
‘ of  Owning  Land,  there  might  be  faculties  enough,  which,  as 
‘ superfluous  for  such  use,  were  little  developed  in  him.’ 

That  to  Teufelsdrockh  the  aspect  of  the  world  was  nowise 
so  faultless,  and  many  things  besides  ‘ the  Outrooting  of  Jour- 
nalism/ might  have  seemed  improvements,  we  can  readily  con- 
jecture. With  nothing  but  a barren  Auscultatorship  from 


GETTING  UNDER  WAY. 


107 


without,  and  so  many  mutinous  thoughts  and  wishes  from 
within,  his  position  wras  no  easy  one.  £ The  Universe,’  he  says, 

£ was  as  a mighty  Sphinx-riddle,  which  I knew  so  little  of,  yet 
£ must  rede,  or  be  devoured.  In  red ‘streaks  of  unspeakable 
£ grandeur,  yet  also  in  the  blackness  of  darkness,  was  Life 
£ to  my  too-unfurnished  Thought,  unfolding  itself.  A strange 
i contradiction  lay  in  me  ; and  I as  yet  knew  not  the  solution 
c of  it ; knew  not  that  spiritual  music  can  spring  only  from 
£ discords  set  in  unison  ; that  but  for  Evil  there  were  no  Good, 
£ as  victory  is  only  possible  by  battle.’ 

£ I have  heard  affirmed  (surely  in  jest),’  observes  he  else- 
c where,  by  not  unphilanthropic  persons,  that  it  were  a real 
£ increase  of  human  happiness,  could  all  young  men  from  the 
£ age  of  nineteen  be  covered  under  barrels,  or  rendered  other- 
£ wise  invisible  ; and  there  left  to  follow  their  lawful  studies 
‘ and  callings,  till  they  emerged,  sadder  and  wiser,  at  the  age 
£ of  twenty-five.  With  which  suggestion,  at  least  as  considered 
£ in  the  light  of  a practical  scheme,  I need  scarcely  say  that  I 
£ nowise  coincide.  Nevertheless  it  is  plausibly  urged  that,  as 
£ young  ladies  ( Madchen ) are,  to  mankind,  precisely  the  most 
£ delightful  in  those  years  ; so  young  gentlemen  ( Bubchen ) do 
£ then  attain  their  maximum  of  detestability.  Such  gawks 
c ( GecJcen ) are  they,  and  foolish  peacocks,  and  yet  with  such  a 
£ vulturous  hunger  for  self-indulgence  : so  obstinate,  obstreper- 
£ ous,  vain-glorious ; in  all  senses,  so  froward  and  so  forward. 
£ No  mortal’s  endeavour  or  attainment  will,  in  the  smallest, 
£ content  the  as  yet  unendeavouring,  unattaining  young  gentle- 
c man  ; but  he  could  make  it  all  infinitely  better,  were  it  wor- 
£ thy  of  him.  Life  everywhere  is  the  most  manageable  matter, 
£ simply  as  a question  in  the  Eule  of  Three : multiply  your 
£ second  and  third  term  together,  divide  the  product  by  the 
£ first,  and  your  quotient  will  be  the  answer, — which  you  are 
£ but  an  ass  if  you  cannot  come  at.  The  booby  has  not  yet 
£ found  out,  by  any  trial,  that,  do  what  one  will,  there  is  ever 
£ a cursed  fraction,  oftenest  a decimal  repeater,  and  no  net 
£ integer  quotient  so  much  as  to  be  thought  of.’ 

In  which  passage  does  there  not  lie  an  implied  confession 
that  Teufelsdrockh  himself,  besides  his  outward  obstructions, 


108 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


had  an  inward,  still  greater,  to  contend  with  ; namely,  a cer- 
tain temporary,  youthful,  yet  still  afflictive  derangement  of 
head?  Alas!  on  the  former  side  alone,  his  case  was  hard 
enough.  ‘It  continues  ever  true,’  says  he,  ‘that  Saturn,  or 
* Chronos,  or  what  we  call  Time,  devours  all  his  Children : 
‘ only  by  incessant  Running,  by  incessant  Working,  may  you 
‘ (for  some  threescore  and  ten  years)  escape  him  ; and  you 
‘ too  he  devours  at  last.  Can  any  Sovereign,  or  Holy  Alli- 
‘ ance  of  Sovereigns,  bid  Time  stand  still ; even  in  thought, 
‘ shake  themselves  free  of  Time  ? Our  whole  terrestrial 
‘ being  is  based  on  Time,  and  built  of  Time  ; it  is  wholly  a 
‘ Movement,  a Time-impulse  ; Time  is  the  author  of  it,  the 
‘ material  of  it.  Hence  also  our  Whole  Duty,  which  is  to 
‘ move,  to  work, — in  the  right  direction.  Are  not  our  Bodies 
‘ and  our  Souls  in  continual  movement,  whether  we  will  or 
‘ not ; in  a continual  Waste,  requiring  a continual  Repair  ? 
‘ Utmost  satisfaction  of  our  whole  outward  and  inward  Wants 
‘ were  but  satisfaction  for  a space  of  Time  ; thus,  whatso  we 
‘ have  done,  is  done,  and  for  us  annihilated,  and  ever  must 
‘ we  go  and  do  anew.  O Time-Spirit,  how  hast  thou  envi- 
‘ roned  and  imprisoned  us,  and  sunk  us  so  deep  in  thy  troub- 
‘ lous  dim  Time-Element,  that,  only  in  lucid  moments,  can 
‘ so  much  as  glimpses  of  our  upper  Azure  Home  be  revealed 
‘to  us ! Me,  however,  as  a Son  of  Time,  unhappier  than 
‘ some  others,  was  Time  threatening  to  eat  quite  prematurely ; 
‘ for,  strive  as  I might,  there  was  no  good  Running,  so  ob- 
‘ structed  was  the  path,  so  gyved  were  the  feet/  That  is  to 
say,  we  presume,  speaking  in  the  dialect  of  this  lower  world, 
that  Teufelsdrockh’s  whole  duty  and  necessity  was,  like  other 
men’s,  ‘to  work, — in  the  right  direction/ and  that  no  work 
was  to  be  had  ; whereby  he  became  wretched  enough.  As 
was  natural : with  haggard  Scarcity  threatening  him  in  the 
distance  ; and  so  vehement  a soul  languishing  in  restless  in- 
action, and  forced  thereby,  like  Sir  Hudibras’s  sword  by  rust. 
To  eat  into  itself,  for  lack 
Of  something  else  to  hew  and  hack ! 

But  on  the  whole,  that  same  ‘ excellent  Passivity/  as  it  has 
all  along  done,  is  here  again  vigourously  flourishing ; in 


GETTING  UNDER  WAY. 


109 


which  circumstance,  may  we  not  trace  the  beginnings  of 
much  that  now  characterises  our  Professor  ; and  perhaps,  in 
faint  rudiments,  the  origin  of  the  Clothes-Pliilosophy  itself  ? 
Already  the  attitude  he  has  assumed  towards  the  World  is 
too  defensive  ; not,  as  would  have  been  desirable,  a bold  atti- 
tude of  attack.  4 So  far  hitherto/  he  says,  c as  I had  mingled 
4 with  mankind,  I was  notable,  if  for  any  thing,  for  a certain 
4 stillness  of  manner,  which,  as  my  friends  often  rebukingly 
4 declared,  did  but  ill  express  the  keen  ardour  of  my  feelings. 
4 I,  in  truth,  regarded  men  with  an  excess  both  of  love  and  of 
4 fear.  The  mystery  of  a Person,  indeed,  is  ever  divine,  to 
4 him  that  has  a sense  for  the  Godlike.  Often,  notwithstand- 
4 ing,  was  I blamed,  and  by  half-strangers  hated,  for  my  so- 
4 called  Hardness  (. Hclrte ),  my  Indifferentism  towards  men ; 
4 and  the  seemingly  ironic  tone  I had  adopted,  as  my  favour- 
4 ite  dialect  in  conversation.  Alas,  the  panoply  of  Sarcasm 
4 was  but  as  a buckram  case,  wherein  I had  striven  to  envelope 
4 myself  ; that  so  my  own  poor  Person  might  live  safe  there, 
4 and  in  all  friendliness,  being  no  longer  exasperated  by 
4 wounds.  Sarcasm  I now  see  to  be,  in  general,  the  language 
4 of  the  Devil ; for  which  reason  I have,  long  since,  as  good 
4 as  renounced  it.  But  how  many  individuals  did  I,  in 
4 those  days,  provoke  into  some  degree  of  hostility  thereby  ! 
c An  ironic  man,  with  his  sly  stillness,  and  ambuscading  ways, 

4 more  especially  an  ironic  young  man,  from  whom  it  is  least 
4 expected,  may  be  viewed  as  a pest  to  society.  Have  we  not 
4 seen  persons  of  weight  and  name,  coming  forward,  writh 
4 gentlest  indifference,  to  tread  such  a one  out  of  sight,  as  an 
4 insignificancy  and  worm,  start  ceiling-high  ( balkenhoch ),  and 
4 thence  fall  shattered  and  supine,  to  be  borne  home  on  shut- 
4 ters,  not  without  indignation,  when  he  proved  electric  and 
4 a torpedo  ! 9 

Alas,  how  can  a man  with  this  devilishness  of  temper  make 
way  for  himself  in  Life  ; where  the  first  problem,  as  Teufels- 
drockh  too  admits,  is  4 to  unite  yourself  with  some  one,  and 
with  somewhat  (sich  anzuschliessen ) ? ’ Division,  not  union,  is 
written  on  most  part  of  his  procedure.  Let  us  add  too  that, 
in  no  great  length  of  time,  the  only  important  connexion  he 


110 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


had  ever  succeeded  in  forming,  his  connexion  with  the  Zah- 
darm  Family,  seems  to  have  been  paralysed,  for  all  practical 
uses,  by  the  death  of  the  ‘ not  uncholeric  5 old  Count.  This 
fact  stands  recorded,  quite  incidentally,  in  a certain  Discourse 
on  Epitaphs , huddled  into  the  present  Bag,  among  so  much 
else  ; of  which  Essay  the  learning  and  curious  penetration  are 
more  to  be  approved  of  than  the  spirit.  His  grand  principle 
is,  that  lapidary  inscriptions,  of  what  sort  soever,  should  be 
Historical  rather  than  Lyrical.  ‘ By  request  of  that  worthy 
Nobleman’s  survivors,5  says  he,  ‘ I undertook  to  compose  his 
‘ Epitaph  ; and  not  unmindful  of  my  own  rules,  produced  the 
c following  ; which,  however,  for  an  alleged  defect  of  Latinity, 
c a defect  never  yet  fully  visible  to  myself,  still  remains  unen- 
‘ graven  ; 5 — wherein,  we  may  predict,  there  is  more  than  the 
Latinity  that  will  surprise  an  English  reader : 

mo  JACET 

PHTLIPPUS  ZAEHDARM,  COGNOMXNE  MAGNUS, 
Zaehdarmi  Comes 

EX  IMPERII  CONCILIO, 

VELLERIS  AUREI,  PERISCELIDIS,  NECNON  VULTURIS  NIGRI 
EQUES. 

QUI  DUM  SUB  LUNA  AGEBAT, 

QUINQUIES  MILLE  PERDRICES 

PLUMBO  CONFECIT  : 

YARH  CIBI 

CENTUMPONDIA  MILLIES  CENTENA  MILLIA, 

PER  SE,  PERQUE  SERVOS  QUADRUPEDES  BIPEDESVE, 

HAUD  SINE  TUMULTU  DEVOLVENS, 

IN  STERCUS 

PALAM  CONVERTIT. 

NUNC  A LABORE  REQUIESCENTEM 
OPERA  SEQUUNTUR. 

SI  MONUMENTUM  QU-ERIS, 

FIMETUM  ADSPICE. 

ppjMhM  in  orbe  dejecit  [ sub  dato ] ; postrem&m  [sw6  dato\ 


ROMANCE. 


Ill 


CHAPTER  V. 

ROMANCE. 

‘For  long  years/  writes  Teufelsdroekh,  ‘had  the  poor  He- 
‘ brew,  in  this  Egypt  of  an  Auscultatorship,  painfully  toiled, 

‘ baking  bricks  without  stubble,  before  ever  the  question  once 
‘ struck  him  with  entire  force  : For  what? — Beym  Himmel! 
‘ For  Food  and  Warmth ! And  are  Food  and  Warmth  no- 
‘ where  else,  in  the  whole  wide  Universe,  discoverable  ? — Come 
‘ of  it  what  might,  I resolved  to  try/ 

Thus  then  are  we  to  see  him  in  a new  independent  capacity, 
though  perhaps  far  from  an  improved  one.  Teufelsdroekh  is 
now  a man  without  Profession.  Quitting  the  common  Fleet 
of  herring-busses  and  whalers,  where  indeed  his  leeward,  lag- 
gard condition  was  painful  enough,  he  desperately  steers  off, 
on  a course  of  his  own,  by  sextant  and  compass  of  his  own. 
Unhappy  Teufelsdroekh ! Though  neither  Fleet,  nor  Traffic, 
nor  Commodore^  pleased  thee,  still  was  it  not  a Fleet , sailing 
in  prescribed  track,  for  fixed  objects ; above  all,  in  combina- 
tion, wherein,  by  mutual  guidance,  by  all  manner  of  loans 
and  borrowings,  each  could  manifoldly  aid  the  other  ? How 
wilt  thou  sail  in  unknown  seas ; and  for  thyself  find  that 
shorter  North-west  Passage  to  thy  fair  Spice-country  of  a No- 
where ? — A solitary  rover  on  such  a voyage,  with  such  nautical 
tactics,  will  meet  with  adventures.  Nay,  as  we  forthwith  dis- 
cover, a certain  Calypso-Island  detains  him  at  the  very  outset ; 
and  as  it  were  falsifies  and  oversets  his  whole  reckoning. 

‘If  in  youth/  writes  he  once,  ‘the  Universe  is  majestically 
‘ unveiling,  and  everywhere  Heaven  revealing  itself  on  Earth, 
‘ nowhere  to  the  Young  Man  does  this  Heaven  on  Earth  so 
‘ immediately  reveal  itself  as  in  the  Young  Maiden.  Strangely 
‘ enough,  in  this  strange  life  of  ours,  it  has  been  so  appointed. 
‘ On  the  whole,  as  I have  often  said,  a Person  ( PersonlichJceit ) 
‘ is  ever  holy  to  us  ; a certain  orthodox  Anthropomorphism 
‘ connects  my  Me  with  all  Thees  in  bonds  of  Love : but  it 
‘ is  in  this  approximation  of  the  Like  and  Unlike,  that  such 


112 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


4 heavenly  attraction,  as  between  Negative  and  Positive,  first 
4 burns  out  into  a flame.  Is  the  pitifulest  mortal  Person, 
4 think  you,  indifferent  to  us  ? Is  it  not  rather  our  heartfelt 
4 wish  to  be  made  one  with  him ; to  unite  him  to  us,  by 
4 gratitude,  by  admiration,  even  by  fear ; or  failing  all  these, 
4 unite  ourselves  to  him  ? But  how  much  more,  in  this  case 
6 of  the  Like-Unlike  ! Here  is  conceded  us  the  higher  mystic 
* possibility  of  such  a union,  the  highest  in  our  Earth ; thus, 
4 in  the  conducting  medium  of  Fantasy,  flames  forth  that  fire- 
4 development  of  the  universal  Spiritual  Electricity,  which,  as 
4 unfolded  between  man  and  woman,  we  first  emphatically 
4 denominate  Love. 

‘In  every  -well-conditioned  stripling,  as  I conjecture,  there 
4 already  blooms  a certain  prospective  Paradise,  cheered  by 
4 some  fairest  Eve  ; nor,  in  the  stately  vistas,  and  flowerage 
4 and  foliage  of  that  Garden,  is  a Tree  of  Knowledge,  beautiful 
4 and  awful  in  the  midst  thereof,  wanting.  Perhaps  too  the 
4 whole  is  but  the  lovelier,  if  Cherubim  and  a Flaming  Sword 
4 divide  it  from  all  footsteps  of  men  ; and  grant  him,  the  im- 
4 aginative  stripling,  only  the  view,  not  the  entrance.  Happy 
4 season  of  virtuous  youth,  when  Shame  is  still  an  impassable 
c celestial  barrier  ; and  the  sacred  air-cities  of  Hope  have  not 
4 shrunk  into  the  mean  clay-hamlets  of  Beality  ; and  man, 
4 by  his  nature,  is  yet  infinite  and  free  ! 

4 As  for  our  young  Forlorn/  continues  Teufelsdrockh,  evi- 
dently meaning  himself,  4 in  his  secluded  way  of  life,  and  with 
4 his  glowing  Fantasy,  the  more  fiery  that  it  burnt  under  cover, 
4 as  in  a reverberating  furnace,  his  feeling  towards  the  Queens 
4 of  this  Earth  was,  and  indeed  is,  altogether  unspeakable. 
4 A visible  Divinity  dwelt  in  them  ; to  our  young  Friend  all 
4 women  were  holy,  were  heavenly.  As  yet  he  but  saw  them 
4 flitting  past,  in  their  many-coloured  angel-plumage  ; or  hov- 
4 ering  mute  and  inaccessible  on  the  outskirts  of  ^ Esthetic  Tea : 
4 all  of  air  they  were,  all  Soul  and  Form  ; so  lovely,  like  mys- 
4 terious  priestesses,  in  whose  hand  was  the  invisible  Jacob’s- 
4 ladder,  whereby  man  might  mount  into  very  Heaven.  That 
4 he,  our  poor  Friend,  should  ever  win  for  himself  one  of  these 
4 Gracefuls  {Holden)  Ach  Gott!  how  could  he  hope  it ; should 


ROMANCE. 


113 


‘ lie  not  have  died  under  it  ? There  was  a certain  delirious 
‘ vertigo  in  the  thought. 

‘ Thus  was  the  young  man,  if  all  sceptical  of  Demons  and 
‘Angels  such  as  the  vulgar  had  once  believed  in,  nevertheless 
‘not  unvisited  by  hosts  of  true  Sky-born,  who  visibly  and 
‘ audibly  hovered  round  him  whereso  he  went ; and  they  had 
‘ that  religious  worship  in  his  thought,  though  as  yet  it  was 
‘ by  their  mere  earthly  and  trivial  name  that  he  named  them. 
‘But  now,  if  on  a soul  so  circumstanced,  some  actual  Air- 
‘ maiden,  incorporated  into  tangibility  and  reality,  should  cast 
‘any  electric  glance  of  kind  eyes,  saying  thereby,  “ Thou  too 
4 “ mayest  love  and  be  loved  ; ” and  so  kindle  him, — good 
‘ Heaven,  what  a volcanic,  earthquake-bringing,  all-consuming 
‘ fire  were  probably  kindled  ! ’ 

Such  a fire,  it  afterwards  appears,  did  actually  burst  forth, 
with  explosions  more  or  less  Vesuvian,  in  the  inner  man  of 
Herr  Diogenes  ; as  indeed  how  could  it  fail  ? A nature, 
which,  in  his  own  figurative  style,  we  might  say,  had  now  not  a 
little  carbonised  tinder,  of  Irritability  ; with  so  much  nitre  of 
latent  Passion,  and  sulphurous  Humour  enough ; the  whole 
lying  in  such  hot  neighbourhood,  close  by  ‘a  reverberating 
furnace  of  Fantasy  : ’ have  we  not  here  the  components  of 
driest  Gunpowder,  ready,  on  occasion  of  the  smallest  spark, 
to  blaze  up?  Neither,  in  this  our  Life -element,  are  sparks 
anywhere  wanting.  Without  doubt,  some  Angel,  whereof  so 
many  hovered  round,  would  one  day,  leaving  ‘ the  outskirts  of 
i Esthetic  Tea ,’  flit  nigher  ; and,  by  electric  Promethean  glance, 
kindle  no  despicable  firework.  Happy,  if  it  indeed  proved  a 
Firework,  and  flamed  off  rocket-wise,  in  successive  beautiful 
bursts  of  splendour,  each  growing  naturally  from  the  other, 
through  the  several  stages  of  a happy  Youthful  Love  ; till  the 
whole  were  safely  burnt  out ; and  the  young  soul  relieved, 
with  little  damage  ! Happy,  if  it  did  not  rather  prove  a Con- 
flagration and  mad  Explosion  ; painfully  lacerating  the  heart 
itself  ; nay  perhaps  bursting  the  heart  in  pieces  (which  were 
Death) ; or  at  best,  bursting  the  thin  walls  of  your  ‘ reverber- 
ating furnace,’  so  that  it  rage  thenceforth  all  unchecked 
among  the  contiguous  combustibles  (which  were  Madness) : 

8 


114 


SARTOR  RESARTTJS. 


till  of  the  so  fair  and  manifold  internal  world  of  onr  Diogenes, 
there  remained  Nothing,  or  only  the  ‘ crater  of  an  extinct  vol- 
cano ! ’ 

From  multifarious  Documents  in  this  Bag  Capricornus,  and 
in  the  adjacent  ones  on  both  sides  thereof,  it  becomes  mani- 
fest that  our  Philosopher,  as  stoical  and  cynical  as  he  now 
looks,  was  heartily  and  even  franticly  in  Love  ; here  therefore 
may  our  old  doubts  whether  his  heart  were  of  stone  or  of 
flesh  give  way.  He  loved  once  ; not  wisely  but  too  well. 
And  once  only : for  as  your  Congreve  needs  a new  case  or 
wrappage  for  every  new  rocket,  so  each  human  heart  can 
properly  exhibit  but  one  Love,  if  even  one ; the  c First  Love 
which  is  infinite  ’ can  be  followed  by  no  second  like  unto  it. 
In  more  recent  years,  accordingly,  the  Editor  of  these  Sheets 
was  led  to  regard  Teufelsdrockh  as  a man  not  only  who  would 
never  wed,  but  who  would  never  even  flirt ; whom  the  grand- 
climacteric  itself,  and  St.  Martin's  Summer  of  incipient  Dot- 
age, would  crown  with  no  new  myrtle  garland.  To  the  Pro- 
fessor, women  are  henceforth  Pieces  of  Art ; of  Celestial  Art, 
indeed  ; which  celestial  pieces  he  glories  to  survey  in  galleries, 
but  has  lost  thought  of  purchasing. 

Psychological  readers  are  not  without  curiosity  to  see  how 
Teufelsdrockh,  in  this  for  him  unexampled  predicament,  de- 
means himself  ; with  what  specialities  of  successive  configura- 
tion, splendour  and  colour,  his  Firework  blazes  off.  Small,  as 
usual,  is  the  satisfaction  that  such  can  meet  with  here.  From 
amid  these  confused  masses  of  Eulogy  and  Elegy,  with  their 
mad  Petrarchan  and  Werterean  ware  lying  madly  scattered 
among  all  sorts  of  quite  extraneous  matter,  not  so  much  as 
the  fair  one’s  name  can  be  deciphered.  For,  without  doubt,  the 
title  Btumine , whereby  she  is  here  designated,  and  which  means 
simply  Goddess  of  Flowers,  must  be  fictitious.  Was  her  real 
name  Flora,  then  ? But  what  was  her  surname,  or  had  she 
none  ? Of  what  station  in  Life  was  she  ; of  what  parentage, 
fortune,  aspect  ? Specially,  by  what  Pre-established  Harmony 
of  occurrences  did  the  Lover  and  the  Loved  meet  one  another 
in  so  wide  a world  ; how  did  they  behave  in  such  meeting  ? 
To  all  which  questions,  not  unessential  in  a Biographic  work, 


ROMANCE. 


115 


mere  Conjecture  must  for  most  part  return  answer.  4 It  was 
‘appointed/  says  our  Philosopher,  ‘that  the  high  celestial 
‘ orbit  of  Blumine  should  intersect  the  low  sublunary  one  of 
‘ our  Forlorn  ; that  he,  looking  in  her  empyrean  eyes,  should 
‘ fancy  the  upper  Sphere  of  Light  was  come  down  into  this 
‘ nether  sphere  of  Shadows ; and  finding  himself  mistaken, 
‘ make  noise  enough. ’ 

We  seem  to  gather  that  she  was  young,  hazel- eyed,  beauti- 
ful, and  some  one’s  Cousin  ; highborn  and  of  high  spirits ; 
but  unhappily  dependent  and  insolvent  ; living,  perhaps,  on 
the  not  too  gracious  bounty  of  monied  relatives.  But  how 
came  ‘ the  Wanderer 5 into  her  circle  ? W"as  it  by  the  humid 
vehicle  of  A Esthetic  Tea , or  by  the  arid  one  of  mere  Business  ? 
Was  it  on  the  hand  of  Herr  Towgood ; or  of  the  Gnadige 
Frau,  who,  as  an  ornamental  Artist,  might  sometimes  like  to 
promote  flirtation,  especially  for  young  cynical  Nondescripts  ? 
To  all  appearance,  it  was  chiefly  by  Accident,  and  the  grace 
of  Nature. 

‘ Thou  fair  Waldschloss/  writes  our  Autobiographer,  ‘ what 
‘ stranger  ever  saw  thee,  were  it  even  an  absolved  Auscultator, 
‘ officially  bearing  in  his  pocket  the  last  Relatio  ex  Actis  he 
‘ would  ever  write  ; but  must  have  paused  to  wonder ! Noble 
‘ Mansion  ! There  stoodest  thou,  in  deep  Mountain  Amphi- 
‘ theatre,  on  umbrageous  lawns,  in  thy  serene  solitude  ; 
‘ stately,  massive,  all  of  granite  ; glittering  in  the  western 
‘ sunbeams,  like  a palace  of  El  Doredo,  overlaid  with  precious 
c metal.  Beautiful  rose  up,  in  wavy  curvature,  the  slope  of 
‘ thy  guardian  Hills : of  the  greenest  was  their  sward,  em* 
‘ bossed  with  its  dark-brown  frets  of  crag,  or  spotted  by  some 

* spreading  solitary  Tree  and  its  shadow.  To  the  unconscious 

* Wayfarer  thou  wert  also  as  an  Ammon’s  Temple,  in  the 
‘ Libyan  Waste  ; where,  for  joy  and  woe,  the  tablet  of  his  Des- 

* tiny  lay  written.  Well  might  he  pause  and  gaze  ; in  that 
‘ glance  of  his  were  prophecy  and  nameless  forebodings.’ 

But  now  let  us  conjecture  that  the  so  presentient  Auscul- 
tator has  handed  in  his  Relatio  ex  Actis ; been  invited  to  a 
glass  of  Rhine-wine ; and  so,  instead  of  returning  dispirited 
and  athirst  to  his  dusty  Town-home,  is  ushered  into  the  Gar- 


116 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


denhouse,  where  sit  the  choicest  party  of  dames  and  cavaliers; 
if  not  engaged  in  iEsthetic  Tea,  yet  in  trustful  evening  con- 
versation, and  perhaps  Musical  Coffee,  for  we  hear  of  ‘ harps 
and  pure  voices  making  the  stillness  live.’  Scarcely,  it  would 
seem,  is  the  Gardenhouse  inferior  in  respectability  to  the 
noble  Mansion  itself.  £ Embowered  amid  rich  foliage,  rose- 
c clusters,  and  the  hues  and  odours  of  thousand  flowers,  here 
£ sat  that  brave  company ; in  front,  from  the  wide-opened 
£ doors,  fair  outlook  over  blossom  and  bush,  over  grove  and 
£ velvet  green,  stretching,  undulating  onwards  to  the  remote 
£ Mountain  peaks  : so  bright,  so  mild,  and  everywhere  the  mel- 
£ ody  oi  birds  and  happy  creatures  : it  was  all  as  if  man  had 
£ stolen  a shelter  from  the  Sun  in  the  bosom-vesture  of  Sum- 
£ mer  herself.  How  came  it  that  the  Wanderer  advanced 
£ thither  with  such  forecasting  heart  ( ahndungsvoll ),  by  the 
6 side  of  his  gay  host  ? Did  he  feel  that  to  these  soft  influ- 
£ ences  his  hard  bosom  ought  to  be  shut ; that  here,  once 
£ more,  Fate  had  it  in  view  to  try  him  ; to  mock  him,  and  see 
£ whether  there  were  Humour  in  him  ? 

£ Next  moment  he  finds  himself  presented  to  the  party  ; and 
£ especially  by  name  to — Blumine  ! Peculiar  among  all  dames 
£ and  damosels,  glanced  Blumine,  there  in  her  modesty,  like 
£ a star  among  earthly  lights.  Noblest  maiden ! whom  he 
£ bent  to,  in  body  and  in  soul ; yet  scarcely  dared  look  at,  for 
£ the  presence  filled  him  with  painful  yet  sweetest  embarrass- 
£ ment. 

£ Blumine’s  was  a name  well  known  to  him  ; far  and  wide 
£ was  the  fair  one  heard  of,  for  her  gifts,  her  graces,  her  ca- 
£ prices : from  all  which  vague  colourings  of  Rumour,  from 
£ the  censures  no  less  than  from  the  praises,  had  our  Friend 
£ painted  for  himself  a certain  imperious  Queen  of  Hearts, 
£ and  blooming  warm  Earth-angel,  much  more  enchanting 
£ than  your  mere  white  Heaven-angels  of  women,  in  whose 
£ placid  veins  circulates  too  little  naphtha-fire.  Herself  also 
£ he  had  seen  in  public  places  ; that  light,  yet  so  stately  form ; 
£ those  dark  tresses,  shading  a face  where  smiles  and  sunlight 
£ played  over  earnest  deeps  : but  all  this  he  had  seen  only  as 
6 a magic  vision,  for  him  inaccessible,  almost  without  reality. 


ROMANCE. 


117 


* Her  sphere  was  too  far  from  his  ; how  should  she  ever  think 
4 of  him  ; O Heaven  ! how  should  they  so  much  as  once  meet 
4 together  ? And  now  that  Rose-goddess  sits  in  the  same 
c circle  with  him  ; the  light  of  her  eyes  has  smiled  on  him,  if 
4 he  speak  she  will  hear  it ! Nay,  who  knows,  since  the 
4 heavenly  Sun  looks  into  lowest  valleys,  but  Blumine  herself, 

4 might  have  aforetime  noted  the  so  unnotable ; perhaps,  from 
4 his  very  gainsayers,  as  he  had  from  hers,  gathered  wonder, 

4 gathered  favour  for  him  ? Was  the  attraction,  the  agitation 
4 mutual,  then ; pole  and  pole  trembling  towards  contact, 

4 when  once  brought  into  neighbourhood  ? Say  rather,  heart 
4 swelling  in  presence  of  the  Queen  of  Hearts ; like  the  Sea 
4 swelling  when  once  near  its  Moon  ! With  the  Wanderer  it 
4 was  even  so : as  in  heavenward  gravitation,  suddenly  as  at 
4 the  touch  of  a Seraph’s  wand,  his  whole  soul  is  roused  from  its 
4 deepest  recesses  ; and  all  that  was  painful,  and  that  was  bliss- 
4 ful  there,  dim  images,  vague  feelings  of  a whole  Past  and  a 
4 whole  Future,  are  heaving  in  unquiet  eddies  within  him. 

4 Often,  in  far  less  agitating  scenes,  had  our  still  Friend 
4 shrunk  forcibly  together ; and  shrouded  up  his  tremours 
4 and  flutterings,  of  what  sort  soever,  in  a safe  cover  of  Silence, 
4 and  perhaps  of  seeming  Stolidity.  How  was  it,  then,  that 
4 here,  when  trembling  to  the  core  of  his  heart,  he  did  not 
4 sink  into  swoons,  but  rose  into  strength,  into  fearlessness 
4 and  clearness?  It  was  his  guiding  Genius  (Damon)  that  in- 
4 spired  him  ; he  must  go  forth  and  meet  his  Destiny.  Shew 
4 thyself  now,  whispered  it,  or  be  forever  hid.  Thus  some- 
4 times  it  is  even  when  your  anxiety  becomes  transcendental, 
4 that  the  soul  first  feels  herself  able  to  transcend  it ; that  she 
4 rises  above  it,  in  fiery  victory ; and,  borne  on  new-found 

4 wings  of  victory,  moves  so  calmly,  even  because  so  rapidly, 

5 so  irresistably.  Always  must  the  Wanderer  remember,  with 
4 a certain  satisfaction  and  surprise,  how  in  this  case  he  sat  not 
4 silent,  but  struck  adroitly  into  the  stream  of  conversation  ; 
‘which  thenceforth,  to  speak  with  an  apparent  not  a real 
‘vanity,  he  may  say  that  he  continued  to  lead.  Surely,  in 
4 those  hours,  a certain  inspiration  was  imparted  him,  such  in- 
4 spiration  as  is  still  possible  in  our  late  era.  The  self-secluded 


118 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


£ unfolds  himself  in  noble  thoughts,  in  free,  glowing  words ; 

£ his  soul  is  as  one  sea  of  light,  the  peculiar  home  of  Truth 
‘ and  Intellect ; wherein  also  Fantasy  bodies  forth  form  after 
£ form,  radiant  with  all  prismatic  hues.’ 

It  appears,  in  this  otherwise  so  happy  meeting,  there  talked 
one  £ Philistine  ; J who  even  now,  to  the  general  weariness,  was 
dominantly  pouring  forth  Philistinism  ( Philistriositaten ) ; little 
witting  what  hero  was  here  entering  to  demolish  him  ! We 
omit  the  series  of  Socratic,  or  other  Diogenic  utterances,  not 
unhappy  in  their  way,  whereby  the  monster,  ‘ persuaded  into 
£ silence,’  seems  soon  after  to  have  withdrawn  for  the  night. 

4 Of  which  dialectic  marauder/  writes  our  hero,  ‘ the  discom- 
£ fiture  was  visibly  felt  as  a benefit  by  most : but  what  were  all 
6 applauses  to  the  glad  smile,  threatening  every  moment  to 
£ become  a laugh,  wherewith  Blumine  herself  repaid  the  vic- 
£ tor  ? He  ventured  to  address  her,  she  answered  with  atfcen- 
£ tion  : nay,  what  if  there  were  a slight  tremour  in  that  silver 
£ voice  ; what  if  the  red  glow  of  evening  were  hiding  a tran- 
£ sient  blush  ! 

cThe  conversation  took  a higher  tone,  one  fine  thought 
£ called  forth  another  : it  was  one  of  those  rare  seasons,  when 
£ the  soul  expands  with  full  freedom,  and  man  feels  himself 
‘ brought  near  to  man.  Gaily  in  light,  graceful  abandonment, 
‘ the  friendly  talk  played  round  that  circle ; for  the  burden 
* was  rolled  from  every  heart ; the  barriers  of  Ceremony,  which 
£ are  indeed  the  laws  of  polite  living,  had  melted  as  into 
c vapour ; and  the  poor  claims  of  Me  and  Thee,  no  longer 
£ parted  by  rigid  fences,  now  flowed  softly  into  one  another ; 
£ and  Life  lay  all  harmonious,  many-tinted,  like  some  fair 
£ royal  champaign,  the  sovereign  and  owner  of  which  were 
‘ Love  only.  Such  music  springs  from  kind  hearts,  in  a kind 
£ environment  of  place  and  time.  And  yet  as  the  light  grew 
‘more  aerial  on  the  mountain-tops,  and  the  shadows  fell 
£ longer  over  the  valley,  some  faint  tone  of  sadness  may  have 
£ breathed  through  the  heart ; and,  in  whispers  more  or  less 
4 audible,  reminded  every  one  that  as  this  bright  day  was  draw- 
‘ ing  towards  its  close,  so  likewise  must  the  Day  of  Man’s  Ex- 
‘ istence  decline  into  dust  and  darkness  ; and  with  all  its  sick 


ROMANCE. 


119 

4toilings,  and  joyful  and  mournful  noises,  sink  in  the  still 
4 Eternity. 

4 To  our  Friend  the  hours  seemed  moments ; holy  was  he 
c and  happy : the  words  from  those  sweetest  lips  came  over 
4 him  like  dew  on  thirsty  grass  ; all  better  feelings  in  his  soul 
£ seemed  to  whisper  : It  is  good  for  us  to  be  here.  At  part- 
s ing,  the  Blumine’s  hand  was  in  his  : in  the  balmy  twilight, 

4 with  the  kind  stars  above  them,  he  spoke  something  of  meet- 
4 ing  again,  which  was  not  contradicted  ; he  pressed  gently 
4 those  small  soft  fingers,  and  it  seemed  as  if  they  were  not 
4 hastily,  not  angrily  withdrawn/ 

Poor  Teufelsdrockh ! it  is  clear  to  demonstration  thou  art 
smit : the  Queen  of  Hearts  would  see  a 4 man  of  genius  ’ also 
sigh  for  her ; and  there,  by  art  magic,  in  that  preternatural 
hour,  has  she  bound  and  spell-bound  thee.  4 Love  is  not 
4 altogether  a Delirium,5  says  he  elsewhere,  4 yet  has  it  many 
4 points  in  common  therewith.  I call  it  rather  a discerning  of 
4 the  Infinite  in  the  Finite,  of  the  Idea  made  Real ; which  dis- 
4 cerning  again  may  be  either  true  or  false,  either  seraphic  or 
< demoniac,  Inspiration  or  Insanity.  But  in  the  former  case 
4 too,  as  in  common  Madness,  it  is  Fantasy  that  superadds  it- 
4 self  to  sight ; on  the  so  petty  domain  of  the  Actual  plants  its 
4 Archimedes-lever,  whereby  to  move  at  will  the  infinite  Spirit- 
ual. Fantasy  I might  call  the  true  Heaven-gate  and  Hell- 
4 gate  of  man : his  sensuous  life  is  but  the  small  temporary 
4 stage  ( Zeitbiihne ) whereon  thick-streaming  influences  from 
4 both  these  far  yet  near  regions  meet  visibly,  and  act  tragedy 
4 and  melodrama.  Sense  can  support  herself  handsomely,  in 
4 most  countries,  for  some  eighteenpence  a day  ; but  for  Fan- 
4 tasy  planets  and  solar-systems  will  not  suffice.  Witness  your 
4 Pyrrhus  conquering  the  world,  yet  drinking  no  better  red 
4 wine  than  he  had  before.5  Alas ! witness  also  your  Diog- 
enes, flame-clad,  scaling  the  upper  Heaven,  and  verging  to- 
wards Insanity,  for  prize  of  a high-souled  Brunette,  as  if 
the  Earth  held  but  one  and  not  several  of  these  ! 

He  says  that,  in  Town,  they  met  again  : 4 day  after  day,  like 
4 his  heart’s  sun,  the  blooming  Blumine  shone  on  him.  Ah  ! 
4 a little  while  ago,  and  he  was  yet  in  all  darkness : him  what 


120 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 Graceful  (Holde)  .would  ever  love  ? Disbelieving  all  things 
4 the  poor  youth  had  never  learned  to  believe  in  himself. 

4 Withdrawn  in  proud  timidity,  within  his  own  fastnesses : 

4 solitary  from  men,  yet  baited  by  night-spectres  enough,  he 
4 saw  himself,  with  a sad  indignation,  constrained  to  renounce 
4 the  fairest  hopes  of  existence.  And  now,  O now  ! “ She 

4 £*  looks  on  thee,”  cried  he  ; 44  she  the  fairest,  noblest ; do  not 
4 44  her  dark  eyes  tell  thee,  thou  art  not  despised?  The 
4 44  Heaven’s-Messenger  ! All  Heaven’s  blessings  be  hers  ! ” 
4 Thus  did  soft  melodies  flow  through  his  heart ; tones  of  an 
4 infinite  gratitude  ; sweetest  intimations  that  he  also  was  a 
4 man,  that  for  him  also  unutterable  joys  had  been  provided. 

4 In  free  speech,  earnest  or  gay,  amid  lambent  glances, 
4 laughter,  tears,  and  often  with  the  inarticulate  mystic  speech 
4 of  Music  ; such  was  the  element  they  now  lived  in  ; in  such 
4 a many-tinted,  radiant  Aurora,  and  by  this  fairest  of  Orient 
4 Light-bringers  must  our  Friend  be  blandished,  and  the  new 
4 Apocalypse  of  Nature  unrolled  to  him.  Fairest  Blumine  ! 
4 And,  even  as  a Star,  all  Fire  and  humid  Softness,  a very 
4 Light-ray  incarnate  ! Was  there  so  much  as  fault,  a a 
4 44  caprice,”  he  could  have  dispensed  with  ? Was  she  not  to 
4 him  in  very  deed  a morning-Star ; did  not  her  presence 
4 bring  with  it  airs  from  Heaven  ? As  from  iEolean  Harps  in 
4 the  breath  of  dawn,  as  from  the  Memnon’s  Statue  struck  by 
4 the  rosy  finger  of  Aurora,  unearthly  music  was  around  him, 
4 and  lapped  him  into  untried  balmy  Best.  Pale  Doubt  fled 
4 away  to  the  distance  ; Life  bloomed  up  with  happiness  and 
4 hope.  The  Past,  then,  was  all  a haggard  dream  ; he  had 
4 been  in  the  Garden  of  Eden,  then,  and  could  not  discern  it ! 
4 But  lo  now ! the  black  walls  of  his  prison  melt  away  ; the 
4 captive  is  alive,  is  free.  If  he  loved  his  Disenchantress  ? 
4 Ach  Gott ! His  whole  heart  and  soul  and  life  were  hers, 
4 but  never  had  he  named  it  Love : existence  was  all  a Feel- 
4 ing,  not  yet  shaped  into  a Thought.’ 

Nevertheless,  into  a Thought,  nay  into  an  Action,  ifc  must 
be  shaped  ; for  neither  Disenchanter  nor  Disenchantress,  mere 
‘Children  of  Time,’  can  abide  by  feeling  alone.  The  Pro- 
fessor knows  not,  to  this  day,  4 how  in  her  soft,  fervid  bosom, 


ROMANCE. 


121 


* the  Lovely  found  determination,  even  on  hest  of  Necessity, 

‘ to  cut  asunder  these  so  blissful  bounds/  He  even  appears 
surprised  at  the  ‘Duenna  Cousin/  whoever  she  may  have 
been,  ‘in  whose  meagre,  hunger-bitten  philosophy,  the  re- 
‘ ligion  of  young  hearts  was,  from  the  first,  faintly  approved 
‘ of/  We,  even  at  such  distance,  can  explain  it  without 
necromancy.  Let  the  Philosopher  answer  this  one  question  : 
What  figure,  at  that  period,  was  a Mrs.  Teufelsdrockh  likely 
to  make  in  polished  society  ? Could  she  have  driven  so  much 
as  a brass-bound  Gig,  or  even  a simple  ironspring  one  ? 
Thou  foolish  ‘absolved  Auscultator/  before  whom  lies  no 
prospect  of  capital,  will  any  yet  known  ‘religion  of  young 
hearts  keep  the  human  kitchen  warm  ? 5 Pshaw ! thy  divine 
Blumine,  when  she  ‘ resigned  herself  to  wed  some  richer/ 
shews  more  philosophy  though  but  ‘a  woman  of  genius/ 
than  thou,  a pretended  man. 

Our  readers  have  witnessed  the  origin  of  this  Love-mania, 
and  with  what  royal  splendour  it  waxes,  and  rises.  Let  no 
one  ask  us  to  unfold  the  glories  of  its  dominant  state  ; much 
less  the  horrors  of  its  almost  instantaneous  dissolution.  How 
from  such  inorganic  masses,  henceforth  madder  than  ever,  as 
lie  in  these  Bags,  can  even  fragments  of  a living  delineation 
be  organised?  Besides,  of  what  profit  w^ere  it?  We  view 
with  a lively  pleasure,  the  gay  silk  Montgolfier  start  from  the 
ground,  and  shoot  upwards,  cleaving  the  liquid  deeps,  till  it 
dwindle  to  a luminous  star : but  what  is  there  to  look  longer 
on,  when  once,  by  natural  elasticity,  or  accident  of  fire,  it  has 
exploded?  A hapless  air-navigator,  plunging,  amid  torn 
parachutes,  sand-bags,  and  confused  wreck,  fast  enough  into 
the  jaws  of  the  Devil ! Suffice  it  to  know  that  Teufelsdrockh 
rose  into  the  highest  regions  of  the  Empyrean,  by  a natural 
parabolic  track,  and  returned  thence  in  a quick  perpendicular 
one.  For  the  rest,  let  any  feeling  reader,  who  has  been  un- 
happy enough  to  do  the  like,  paint  it  out  for  himself : con- 
sidering only  that  if  he,  for  his  perhaps  comparatively  insigni- 
ficant mistress,  underwent  such  agonies  and  frenzies,  what 
must  Tcufelsdrockh’s  have  been,  with  a fire-heart,  and  for  a 
nonpareil  Blumine  ! We  glance  merely  at  the  final  scene  : 


122 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


6 One  morning,  he  found  his  Morning-star  all  dimmed  and 
< dusky-red  ; the  fair  creature  was  silent,  absent,  she  seemed 
‘ to  have  been  weeping.  Alas,  no  longer  a Morning-star,  but 
‘ a troublous  skyey  Portent,  announcing  that  the  Doomsday 
‘ had  dawned  ! She  said,  in  a tremulous  voice,  They  were  to 
‘ meet  no  more/  The  thunderstruck  Air-sailor  is  not  wanting 
to  himself  in  this  dread  hour  : but  what  avails  it  ? We  omit 
the  passionate  expostulations,  entreaties,  indignations,  since 
all  was  vain,  and  not  even  an  explanation  was  conceded  him  ; 
and  hasten  to  the  catastrophe.  ‘ ££  Farewell,  then,  Madam  ! ” 
‘ said  he,  not  without  sternness,  for  his  stung  pride  helped 
£ him.  She  put  her  hand  in  his,  she  looked  in  his  face,  tears 
£ started  to  her  eyes  : in  wild  audacity  he  clasped  her  to  his 
£ bosom  ; their  lips  were  joined,  their  two  souls,  like  two  dew- 
£ drops,  rushed  into  one, — for  the  first  time,  and  for  the  last ! ’ 
Thus  was  Teufelsdrockh  made  immortal  by  a kiss.  And  then  ? 
Why,  then — 'thick  curtains  of  Night  rushed  over  his  soul,  as 
£ rose  the  immeasurable  Crash  of  Doom  ; and  through  the 
£ ruins  as  of  a shivered  Universe  was  he  falling,  falling,  to- 
'wards  the  Abyss/ 


CHAPTER  YI. 

SORROWS  OF  TEUFELSDROCKH. 

We  have  long  felt  that,  with  a man  like  our  Professor,  mat- 
ters must  often  be  expected  to  take  a course  of  their  own  ; 
that  in  so  multiplex,  intricate  a nature,  there  might  be  chan- 
nels, both  for  admitting  and  emitting,  such  as  the  Psycholo- 
gist had  seldom  noted  ; in  short,  that  on  no  grand  occasion 
and  convulsion,  neither  in  the  joy-storm  nor  in  the  woe-storm, 
could  you  predict  his  demeanour. 

To  our  less  philosophical  readers,  for  example,  it  is  now  clear 
that  the  so  passionate  Teufelsdrockh,  precipitated  through 
£ a shivered  Universe 5 in  this  extraordinary  way,  has  only  one 
of  three  things  which  he  can  next  do : Establish  himself  in 
Bedlam  ; begin  writing  Satanic  Poetry  ; or  blow  out  his 
brains.  In  the  progress  towards  any  of  which  consumma- 
tions, do  not  such  readers  anticipate  extravagance  enough  ; 


SORROWS  OF  TEUFELSDROCKH. 


123 


breast-beating,  brow-beating  (against  walls),  lion-bellowings 
of  blasphemy  and  the  like,  stampings,  smitings,  breakages  of 
furniture,  if  not  arson  itself  ? 

Nowise  so  does  Teufelsdrockh  deport  him.  He  quietly  lifts 
his  Pilgerstab  (Pilgrim-staff),  ‘old  business  being  soon  wound 
up ; 5 and  begins  a perambulation  and  circumambulation  of 
the  terraqueous  globe  ! Curious  it  is,  indeed,  how  with  such 
vivacity  of  conception,  such  intensity  of  feeling  ; above  all, 
with  these  unconscionable  habits  of  Exaggeration  in  speech, 
he  combines  that  wonderful  stillness  of  his,  that  stoicism  in 
external  procedure.  Thus,  if  his  sudden  bereavement,  in  this 
matter  of  the  Elower-goddess,  is  talked  of  as  a real  Dooms- 
day and  Dissolution  of  Nature,  in  which  light  doubtless  it 
partly  appeared  to  himself,  his  own  nature  is  nowise  dissolved 
thereby  ; but  rather  is  compressed  closer.  For  once,  as  we 
might  say,  a Blumine  by  magic  appliances  has  unlocked  that 
shut  heart  of  his,  and  its  hidden  things  rush  out  tumultuous, 
boundless,  like  genii  enfranchised  from  their  glass  phial : but 
no  sooner  are  your  magic  appliances  withdrawn,  than  the 
strange  casket  of  a heart  springs-to  again  ; and  perhaps  there 
is  now  no  key  extant  that  will  open  it : for  a Teufelsdrockh, 
as  we  remarked,  will  not  love  a second  time.  Singular  Di- 
ogenes ! No  sooner  has  that  heart-rending  occurrence  fairly 
taken  place,  than  he  affects  to  regard  it  as  a thing  natural,  of 
which  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said.  ‘ One  highest  hope, 
£ seemingly  legible  in  the  eyes  of  an  Angel,  had  recalled  him 
‘ as  out  of  Death-shadows  into  celestial  life  : but  a gleam  of 
‘ Tophet  passed  over  the  face  of  his  Angel ; he  was  rapt  away 
‘ in  whirlwinds,  and  heard  the  laughter  of  Demons.  It  was 
‘ a Calenture/  adds  he,  ‘whereby  the  Youth  saw  green  Para- 
‘ dise-groves  in  the  waste  Ocean-waters : a lying  vision,  yet 
‘ not  wholly  a lie,  for  he  saw  it.’  But  wThat  things  soever 
passed  in  him,  when  he  ceased  to  see  it ; what  ragings  and 
despairings  soever  Teufelsdrockh’s  soul  was  the  scene  of,  he 
has  the  goodness  to  conceal  under  a quite  opaque  cover  of 
Silence.  We  know  it  well ; the  first  mad  paroxysm  past,  our 
brave  Gneschen  collected  his  dismembered  philosophies,  and 
buttoned  himself  together ; he  was  meek,  silent,  or  spoke  of 


124 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


the  weather,  and  the  Journals  : only  by  a transient  knitting 
of  those  shaggy  brows,  by  some  deep  flash  of  those  eyes, 
glancing  one  knew  not  whether  with  tear-dew  or  with  fierce 
fire, — might  you  have  guessed  what  a Gehenna  was  within  ; 
that  a whole  Satanic  School  were  spouting,  though  inaudibly, 
there.  To  consume  your  own  choler,  as  some  chimneys  con- 
sume their  own  smoke  ; to  keep  a whole  Satanic  School 
spouting,  if  it  must  spout,  inaudibly,  is  a negative  yet  no 
slight  virtue,  nor  one  of  the  commonest  in  these  times. 

Nevertheless,  we  will  not  take  upon  us  to  say,  that  in  the 
strange  measure  he  fell  upon,  there  was  not  a touch  of  latent 
Insanity  ; whereof  indeed  the  actual  condition  of  these  Docu- 
ments in  Capricornus  and  Aquarius  is  no  bad  emblem.  His 
so  unlimited  Wanderings,  toilsome  enough,  are  without  as- 
signed or  perhaps  assignable  aim  ; internal  Unrest  seems  his 
sole  guidance  ; he  wanders,  wanders,  as  if  that  curse  of  the 
Prophet  had  fallen  on  him,  and  he  were  4 made  like  unto  a 
wheel.’  Doubtless,  too,  the  chaotic  nature  of  these  Paperbags 
aggravates  our  obscurity.  Quite  without  note  of  preparation, 
for  example,  we  come  upon  the  following  slip : ‘ A peculiar 
* feeling  it  is  that  will  rise  in  the  Traveller,  when  turning 
‘ some  hill-range  in  his  desert  road,  he  descries  lying  far  below, 
‘ embosomed  among  its  groves  and  green  natural  bulwarks, 
‘ and  all  diminished  to  a toybox,  the  fair  Town,  where  so  many 
‘ souls,  as  it  were  seen  and  yet  unseen,  are  driving  their  multi- 
‘ farious  traffic.  Its  white  steeple  is  then  truly  a starward- 
‘ pointing  finger  ; the  canopy  of  blue  smoke  seems  like  a sort 
c of  Life-breath  : for  always,  of  its  own  unity,  the  soul  gives 
‘ unity  to  whatso  it  looks  on  with  love  ; thus  does  the  little 
c Dwellingplace  of  men,  in  itself  a congeries  of  houses  and 
c huts,  become  for  us  an  individual,  almost  a person.  But 
c what  thousand  other  thoughts  unite  thereto,  if  the  place  has 
‘ to  ourselves  been  the  arena  of  joyous  or  mournful  experi- 
£ ences ; if  perhaps  the  cradle  we  were  rocked  in  still  stands 
‘ there,  if  our  Loving  ones  still  dwell  there,  if  our  Buried  ones 
‘ there  slumber ! ’ Does  Teuf  elsdrockh,  as  the  wounded  eagle 
is  said  to  make  for  its  own  eyrie,  and  indeed  military  desert- 
ers, and  all  hunted  outcast  creatures,  turn  as  if  by  instinct  in 


SORROWS  OF  TEUFELSDROCKH. 


125 


the  direction  of  their  birth-land, — fly  first,  in  this  extremity, 
towards  his  native  Entepfuhl ; but  reflecting  that  there  no 
help  awaits  him,  taxe  but  one  wistful  look  from  the  distance, 
and  then  wend  elsewhither? 

Little  happier  seems  to  be  his  next  flight : into  the  wilds  of 
Nature ; as  if  in  her  mother-bosom  he  would  seek  healing. 
So  at  least  we  incline  to  interpret  the  following  Notice,  sepa- 
rated from  the  former  by  some  considerable  space,  wherein, 
however,  is  nothing  note-worthy  : 

£ Mountains  were  not  new  to  him  ; but  rarely  are  Mountains 
£ seen  in  such  combined  majesty  and  grace  as  here.  The  rocks 
‘ are  of  that  sort  called  Primitive  by  the  mineralogists,  which 
£ always  arrange  themselves  in  masses  of  a rugged,  gigantic 
£ character ; which  ruggedness,  however,  is  here  tempered  by 
£ a singular  airiness  of  form,  and  softness  of  environment : in 
£ a climate  favourable  to  vegetation,  the  gray  cliff,  itself  cov- 
£ ered  with  lichens,  shoots  up  through  a garment  of  foliage  or 
£ verdure ; and  white,  bright  cottages,  tree-shaded,  cluster 
£ r<?*md  the  everlasting  granite.  In  fine  vicissitude,  Beauty 
£ d)  ,ernates  with  Grandeur : you  ride  through  stony  hollows, 
‘ along  strait  passes,  traversed  by  torrents,  overhung  by 
£ high  walls  of  rock ; now  winding  amid  broken  shaggy 
£ chasms,  and  huge  fragments ; now  suddenly  emerging  into 
< some  emerald  valley,  where  the  streamlet  collects  itself  into 
£ a Lake,  and  man  has  again  found  a fair  dwelling,  and  it 
£ seems  as  if  Peace  had  established  herself  in  the  bosom  of 
£ Strength. 

£ To  Peace,  however,  in  this  vortex  of  existence,  can  the 
£ Son  of  Time  not  pretend : still  less  if  some  Spectre  haunt 
£ him  from  the  Past ; and  the  Future  is  wholly  a Stygian 
£ Darkness,  spectre-bearing.  Reasonably  might  the  Wan- 
‘ derer  exclaim  to  himself  : Are  not  the  gates  of  this  world’s 
£ Happiness  inexorably  shut  against  thee  ; hast  thou  a hope 
£ that  is  not  mad  ? Nevertheless,  one  may  still  murmur  audi- 
£ bly,  or  in  the  original  Greek  if  that  suit  better : ££  Whoso 
£ can  look  on  Death  will  start  at  no  shadows.” 

£ From  such  meditations  is  the  Wanderer’s  attention  called 
£ outwards  ; for  now  the  Valley  closes  in  abruptly,  intersected 


126 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 by  a huge  mountain  mass,  the  stony  waterworn  ascent  of 
4 which  is  not  to  be  accomplished  on  horseback.  Arrived 
4 aloft,  he  finds  himself  again  lifted  into  the  evening  sunset 
4 light ; and  cannot  but  pause,  and  gaze  round  him,  some 
4 moments  there.  An  upland  irregular  expanse  of  wold, 

4 where  valleys  in  complex  branchings  are  suddenly  or  slowly 
< 4 arranging  their  descent  towards  every  quarter  of  the  sky. 
* The  mountain-ranges  are  beneath  your  feet,  and  folded  to- 
4 gether  : only  the  loftier  summits  look  down  here  and  there 
4 as  on  a second  plain  ; lakes  also  lie  clear  and  earnest  in  their 
4 solitude.  No  trace  of  man  now  visible ; unless  indeed  it 
4 were  he  who  fashioned  that  little  visible  link  of  Highway, 
4 here,  as  would  seem,  scaling  the  inaccessible,  to  unite 
4 Province  with  Province.  But  sunwards,  lo  you ! how  it 
4 towers  sheer  up,  a world  of  Mountains,  the  diadem  and  cen- 
4 tre  of  the  mountain  region ! A hundred  and  a hundred 
4 savage  peaks,  in  the  last  light  of  Day  ; all  glowing,  of  gold 
4 and  amethyst,  like  giant  spirits  of  the  wilderness  ; there  in 
4 their  silence,  in  their  solitude,  even  as  on  the  night  when 
4 Noah’s  Deluge  first  dried  ! Beautiful,  nay  solemn,  was  the 
4 sudden  aspect  to  our  Wanderer.  He  gazed  over  those  stu- 
4 pendous  masses  with  wonder,  almost  with  longing  desire ; 
4 never  till  this  hour  had  he  known  Nature,  that  she  was  One, 
4 that  she  was  his  Mother  and  divine.  And  as  the  ruddy 
4 glow  was  fading  into  clearness  in  the  sky,  and  the  Sun  had 
4 now  departed,  a murmur  of  Eternity  and  Immensity,  of 
4 Death  and  of  Life,  stole  through  his  soul ; and  he  felt  as  if 
4 Death  and  Life  were  one,  as  if  the  Earth  were  not  dead,  as 
4 if  the  Spirit  of  the  Earth  had  its  throne  in  that  splendour, 
4 and  his  own  spirit  were  therewith  holding  communion. 

4 The  spell  was  broken  by  a sound  of  carriage-wheels. 
4 Emerging  from  the  hidden  Northward,  to  sink  soon  into  the 
4 hidden  Southward,  came  a gay  barouche-and-four : it  was 
4 open  ; servants  and  postilions  wore  wedding-favours  : that 
4 happy  pair,  then,  had  found  each  other,  it  was  their  mar- 
4 riage  evening ! Few  moments  brought  them  near  : Du 

4 Himmel ! It  was  Herr  Towgood  and Blumine  ! With 

4 slight  unrecognising  salutation  they  passed  me ; plunged 


SORROWS  OF  TE UFELSDRO CKH. 


127 


4 clown  amid  the  neighbouring  thickets,  onwards,  to  Heaven, 

4 and  to  England ; and  I,  in  my  friend  Richter’s  words,  I re - 
4 mained  alone , behind  them,  with  the  Night.9 

Were  it  not  cruel  in  these  circumstances,  here  might  be 
the  place  to  insert  an  observation,  gleaned  long  ago  from  the 
great  Clothes- Volume,  where  it  stands  with  quite  other  intent : 
4 Some  time  before  Small-pox  was  extirpated,’  says  the  Pro- 
fessor, 4 there  came  a new  malady  of  the  spiritual  sort  on 
4 Europe  : I mean  the  epidemic,  now  endemical,  of  View- 
4 hunting.  Poets  of  old  date,  being  privileged  with  Senses, 

4 had  also  enjoyed  external  Nature ; but  chiefly  as  we  enjoy 
4 the  crystal  cup  which  holds  good  or  bad  liquor  for  us  ; that 
4 is  to  say,  in  silence,  or  with  slight  incidental  commentary  : 
4 never,  as  I compute,  till  after  the  Sorrows  of  Werter,  was 
4 there  man  found  who  would  say  : Come  let  us  make  a De- 
4 scription ! Having  drunk  the  liquor,  come  let  us  eat  the 
4 glass  ! Of  which  endemic  the  Jenner  is  unhappily  still  to 
4 seek.’  Too  true  ! 

We  reckon  it  more  important  to  remark  that  the  Professor’s 
Wanderings,  so  far  as  his  stoical  and  cynical  envelopment  ad- 
mits us  to  clear  insight,  here  first  take  their  permanent  charac- 
ter, fatuous  or  not.  That  Basilisk-glance  of  the  Barouche- 
and-four  seems  to  have  withered  up  what  little  remnant  of  a 
purpose  may  have  still  lurked  in  him  : Life  has  become  wholly 
a dark  labyrinth ; wherein,  through  long  years,  our  Friend, 
flying  from  spectres,  has  to  stumble  about  at  random,  and 
naturally  with  more  haste  than  progress. 

Foolish  were  it  in  us  to  attempt  following  him,  even  from 
afar,  in  this  extraordinary  world-pilgrimage  of  his ; the 
simplest  record  of  which,  were  clear  record  possible,  wrould 
fill  volumes.  Hopeless  is  the  obscurity,  unspeakable  the  con- 
fusion. He  glides  from  country  to  country,  from  condition  to 
condition  ; vanishing  and  re-appearing,  no  man  can  calculate 
how  or  where.  Through  all  quarters  of  the  world  he  wan- 
ders, and  apparently  through  all  circles  of  society.  If  in  any 
scene,  perhaps  difficult  to  fix  geographically,  he  settles  for  a 
time,  and  forms  connexions,  be  sure  he  will  snap  them 
abruptly  asunder.  Let  him  sink  out  of  sight  as  Private 


128 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


Scholar  ( Privatisirender ),  living  by  the  grace  of  God,  in  some 
European  capital,  you  may  next  find  him  as  Hadjee  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Mecca.  It  is  an  inexplicable  Phantasma* 
goria,  capricious,  quick-changing ; as  if  our  Traveller,  instead 
of  limbs  and  highways,  had  transported  himself  by  some 
wishing  carpet,  or  Fortunatus*  Hat.  The  whole,  too,  imparted 
emblematically,  in  dim  multifarious  tokens  (as  that  collection 
of  Street-Advertisements)  ; with  only  some  touch  of  direct 
historical  notice  sparingly  interspersed : little  light-islets  in 
the  world  of  haze  ! So  that,  from  this  point,  the  Professor  is 
more  of  an  enigma  than  ever.  In  figurative  language,  we 
might  say  he  becomes,  not  indeed  a spirit,  yet  spiritualised, 
vaporised.  Fact  unparalleled  in  Biography : The  river  of  his 
History,  which  we  have  traced  from  its  tiniest  fountains,  and 
hoped  to  see  flow  on^vard,  with  increasing  current,  into  the 
ocean,  here  dashes  itself  over  that  terrific  Lover’s  Leap  ; and, 
as  a mad-foaming  cataract,  flies  wholly  into  tumultuous  clouds 
of  spray  ! Low  down  it  indeed  collects  again  into  pools  and 
plashes  ; yet  only  at  a great  distance,  and  with  difficulty,  if  at 
all,  into  a general  stream.  To  cast  a glance  into  certain  of 
those  pools  and  plashes,  and  trace  whither  they  run,  rn^st,  for 
a chapter  or  two,  form  the  limit  of  our  endeavour. 

For  which  end  doubtless  those  direct  historical  Notices, 
where  they  can  be  met  with,  are  the  best.  Nevertheless,  of 
this  sort  too  there  occurs  much,  which,  with  our  present  light, 
it  were  questionable  to  emit.  Teufelsdrockh,  vibrating  every- 
where between  the  highest  and  the  lowest  levels,  comes  into 
contact  with  public  History  itself.  For  example,  those  con- 
versations and  relations  with  illustrious  Persons,  as  Sultan 
Mahmoud,  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  and  others,  are  they  not  as 
yet  rather  of  a diplomatic  character  than  of  a biographic  ? 
The  Editor,  appreciating  the  sacredness  of  crowned  heads, 
nay  perhaps  suspecting  the  possible  trickeries  of  a Clothes- 
Philosopher,  will  eschew  this  province  for  the  present : a new 
time  may  bring  new  insight  and  a different  duty. 

If  we  ask  now,  not  indeed  with  what  ulterior  Purpose,  for 
there  was  none,  yet  with  what  immediate  outlooks  ; at  all 
events,  in  what  mood  of  mind,  the  Professor  undertook  and 


SORROWS  OF  TEUFELSDRo CKII. 


129 


proseeuted  this  world-pilgrimage, — the  answer  is  more  distinct 
than  favourable.  ‘A  nameless  Unrest/  says  he,  ‘ urged  me 
* forward  ; to  which  the  outward  motion  was  some  momentary 
‘lying  solace.  Whither  should  I go?  My  Loadstars  were 
‘ blotted  out ; in  that  canopy  of  grim  fire  shone  no  star.  Yet 
‘forward  must  I ; the  ground  burnt  under  me  ; there  was  no 
‘ rest  for  the  sole  of  my  foot.  I was  alone,  alone  ! Ever  too  the 
‘ strong  inward  longing  shaped  Fantasms  for  itself  : towards 
‘ these,  one  after  the  other,  must  I fruitlessly  wander.  A feel- 
‘ ing  I had  that,  for  my  fever-thirst,  there  was  and  must  be 
‘ somewhere  a healing  Fountain.  To  many  fondly  imagined 
‘Fountains,  the  Saints’  Wells  of  these  days,  did  I pilgrim  ; to 
‘ great  Men,  to  great  Cities,  to  great  Events  : but  found  there 
‘no  healing.  In  strange  countries,  as  in  the  well-known;  in 
‘savage  deserts,  as  in  the  press  of  corrupt  civilisation,  it  was 
‘ ever  the  same  : how  could  your  Wanderer  escape  from — his 
‘ own  Shadow ? Nevertheless  still  Forward  ! I felt  as  if  in 
‘great  haste  ; to  do  I saw  not  what.  From  the  depths  of  my 
‘ own  heart,  it  called  to  me,  Forwards ! The  winds  and  the 
‘ streams,  and  all  Nature  sounded  to  me,  Forwards  ! Ach  Gott , 
‘ I was  even,  once  for  all,  a Son  of  Time.’ 

From  which  is  it  not  clear  that  the  internal  Satanic  School 
was  still  active  enough  ? He  says  elsewhere  ; ‘ The  Enchiri - 
‘ dion  of  Epictetus  I had  ever  with  me,  often  as  my  sole  ration- 
al companion  ; and  regret  to  mention  that  the  nourishment 
‘ it  yielded  was  trifling.’  Thou  foolish  Teufelsdrockh  ! How 
could  it  else  ? Hadst  thou  not  Greek  enough  to  understand 
thus  much  : The  end  of  Man  is  an  Action , and  not  a Thought , 
though  it  were  the  noblest? 

‘ How  I lived  ? ’ writes  he  once.  ‘ Friend,  hast  thou  con- 
‘ sidered  the  “rugged  all-nourishing  Earth,”  as  Sophocles  well 
‘ names  her ; how  she  feeds  the  sparrow  on  the  house-top, 
‘ much  more  her  darling,  man  ? While  thou  stirrest  and  livest, 
‘ thou  hast  a probability  of  victual.  My  breakfast  of  tea  has 
‘ been  cooked  by  a Tartar  woman,  with  water  of  the  Amur, 
‘who  wiped  her  earthen-kettle  with  a horse-tail.  I have 
‘ roasted  wild  eggs  in  the  sand  of  Sahara  ; I have  awakened  in 
‘ Paris  Estrapades  and  Vienna  Malzleins , with  no  prospect  of 
9 


130 


SARTOR  RESARTITS. 


4 breakfast  beyond  elemental  liquid.  That  I had  my  living  to 
4 seek  saved  me  from  Dying, — by  suicide.  In  our  busy  Eu- 
4 rope,  is  there  not  an  everlasting  demand  for  Intellect,  in  the 
4 chemical,  mechanical,  political,  religious,  educational,  com- 
4 mercial  departments?  In  Pagan  countries,  cannot  one  write 
4 Fetishes  ? Living  ! Little  knowest  thou  what  alchemy  is  in 
4 an  inventive  Soul ; how,  as  with  its  little  finger,  it  can  create 
‘provisiomenough  for  the  body  (of  a Philosopher) ; and  then, 
4 as  with  both  hands,  create  quite  other  than  provision ; 
4 namely,  spectres  to  torment  itself  withal.’ 

Poor  Teufelsdrockh ! Flying  with  Hunger  always  parallel 
to  him  ; and  a whole  Infernal  Chase  in  his  rear ; so  that  the 
countenance  of  Hunger  is  comparatively  a friend’s!  Thus 
must  he,  in  the  temper  of  ancient  Cain,  or  of  the  modern 
Wandering  Jew,  save  only  that  he  feels  himself  not  guilty  and 
but  suffering  the  pains  of  guilt, — wend  to  and  fro  with  aimless 
speed.  Thus  must  he,  over  the  whole  surface  of  the  Earth 
(by  foot-prints),  write  his  Sorrows  of  Teufelsdrockh  ; even  as 
the  great  Goethe,  in  passionate  words,  had  to  write  his 
Sorrows  of  Werter , before  the  spirit  freed  herself,  and  he 
could  become  a Man.  Yain  truly  is  the  hope  of  your  swift- 
est Eunner  to  escape  4 from  his  own  Shadow!’  Neverthe- 
less, in  these  sick  days,  when  the  Born  of  Heaven  first  de- 
scries himself  (about  the  age  of  twenty)  in  a world  such  as 
ours,  richer  than  usual  in  two  things,  in  Truths  grown  ob- 
solete, and  Trades  grown  obsolete, — what  can  the  fool 
think  but  that  it  is  all  a Den  of  Lies,  wherein  whoso  will  not 
speak  Lies  and  act  Lies,  must  stand  idle  and  despair? 
Whereby  it  happens  that,  for  your  nobler  minds,  the  publish- 
ing of  some  such  Work  of  Art,  in  one  or  the  other  dialect,  be- 
comes almost  a necessity.  For  wrhat  is  it  properly  but  an 
Altercation  with  the  Devil,  before  you  begin  honestly  Fighting 
him  ? Your  Byron  publishes  his  Sorrows  of  Lord  George , in 
verse  and  in  prose,  and  copiously  otherwise  : your  Bonaparte 
represents  his  Sorrows  of  Napoleon  Opera,  in  an  all-too  stu- 
pendous style ; with  music  of  cannon-volleys,  and  murder- 
shrieks  of  a world  ; his  stage-lights  are  the  fires  of  Conflagra- 
tion ; his  rhyme  and  recitative  are  the  tramp  of  embattled 


THE  EVERLASTING  NO. 


131 


Hosts  and  the  sound  of  falling  Cities. — Happier  is  he  who, 
like  our  Clothes-Philosopher,  can  write  such  matter,  since  it 
must  be  written,  on  the  insensible  Earth,  with  his  shoe-soles 
only ; and  also  survive  the  writing  thereof ! 


CHAPTER  YEL 

THE  EVERLASTING  NO. 

Under  the  strange  nebulous  envelopment,  wherein  our  Pro- 
fessor has  now  shrouded  himself,  no  doubt  but  his  spiritual 
nature  is  nevertheless  progressive,  and  growing  : for  how  can 
the  ‘ Son  of  Time/  in  any  case,  stand  still?  We  behold  him, 
through  those  dim  years,  in  a state  of  crisis,  of  transition  : his 
mad  Pilgrimings,  and  general  solution  into  aimless  Discon- 
tinuity, what  is  all  this  but  a mad  Fermentation  ; wherefrom, 
the  fiercer  it  is,  the  clearer  product  will  one  day  evolve  itself  ? 

Such  transitions  are  ever  full  of  pain  : thus  the  Eagle  when 
he  moults  is  sickly  ; and,  to  attain  his  new  beak,  must  harshly 
dash  off  the  old  one  upon  rocks.  What  Stoicism  soever  our 
Wanderer,  in  his  individual  acts  and  motions,  may  effect,  it 
is  clear  that  there  is  a hot  fever  of  anarchy  and  misery  rav- 
ing within  ; coruscations  of  which  flash  out : as,  indeed,  how 
could  there  be  other  ? Have  we  not  seen  him  disappointed, 
bemocked  of  Destiny,  through  long  years  ? All  that  the  young 
heart  might  desire  and  pray  for  has  been  denied  ; nay,  as  in 
the  last  worst  instance,  offered  and  then  snatched  away.  Ever 
an  ‘ excellent  Passivity  ; 5 but  of  useful,  reasonable  Activity, 
essential  to  the  former  as  Food  to  Hunger,  nothing  granted  : 
till  at  length,  in  this  wild  Pilgrimage,  he  must  forcibly  seize 
for  himself  an  Activity,  though  useless,  unreasonable.  Alas  ! 
his  cup  of  bitterness,  which  had  been  filling  drop  by  drop, 
ever  since  the  first  ‘ ruddy  morning  ’ in  the  Hinterschlag 
Gymnasium,  was  at  the  very  lip  ; and  then  with  that  poison- 
drop,  of  the  Towgood-and-Blumine  business,  it  runs  over,  and 
even  hisses  over  in  a deluge  of  foam. 

He  himself  says  once,  with  more  justness  than  originality  : 
6 Man  is,  properly  speaking,  based  upon  Hope,  he  has  no  other 


132 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 possession  but  Hope  ; this  world  of  his  is  emphatically  the 
4 Place  of  Hope.5  What  then  was  our  Professor’s  possession  ? 
We  see  him,  for  the  present,  quite  shut  out  from  Hope  ; look- 
ing not  into  the  golden  orient,  but  vaguely  all  around  into  a 
dim  copper  firmament,  pregnant  with  earthquake  and  tornado. 

Alas,  shut  out  from  Hope,  in  a deeper  sense  than  we  yet 
dream  of ! For  as  he  wanders  wearisomely  through  this  world, 
he  has  not  lost  all  tidings  of  another  and  higher.  Full  of  re- 
ligion, or  at  least  of  religiosity,  as  our  Friend  has  since  ex- 
hibited himself,  he  hides  not  that  in  those  days,  he  was  wholly 
irreligious : 4 Doubt  had  darkened  into  Unbelief,’  says  he  ; 
4 shade  after  shade  goes  grimly  over  your  soul,  till  you  have 
4 the  fixed,  starless,  Tartarean  black.’  To  such  readers  as  have 
reflected,  what  can  be  called  reflecting,  on  man’s  life,  and  hap- 
pily discovered,  in  contradiction  to  much  Profit-and-Loss  Phil- 
osophy, speculative  and  practical,  that  Soul  is  not  synonymous 
with  Stomach ; who  understand,  therefore,  in  our  Friend’s 
words,  4 that,  for  man’s  well-being,  Faith  is  properly  the  one 
4 thing  needful ; how,  with  it,  Martyrs,  otherwise  weak,  can 
4 cheerfully  endure  the  shame  and  the  cross  ; and  without  it, 
£ Worldlings  puke  up  their  sick  existence,  by  suicide  in  the 
4 midst  of  luxury  : ’ to  such  it  will  '‘be  clear  that,  for  a pure 
moral  nature,  the  loss  of  his  religious  Belief  Was  the  loss  of 
every  thing.  Unhappy  young  man  ! All  wounds,  the  crush  of 
long-continued  Destitution,  the  stab  of  false  Friendship,  and  of 
false  Love,  all  wounds  in  thy  so  genial  heart,  would  have  healed 
again,  had  not  its  life-warmth  been  withdrawn.  Well  might  he 
exclaim,  in  his  wild  way : 4 Is  there  no  God,  then  ; but  at  best  an 
4 absentee  God,  sitting  idle,  ever  since  the  first  Sabbath,  at  the 
4 outside  of  his  Universe,  and  see ing  it  go  ? Has  the  word 
4 Duty  no  meaning ; is  what  we  call  Duty  no  divine  Messen- 
4 ger  and  Guide,  but  a false  earthly  Fantasm,  made  up  of  De- 
4 sire  and  Fear,  of  emanations  from  the  Gallows  and  from 
4 Doctor  Graham’s  Celestial-bed  ? Happiness  of  an  approving 
4 Conscience  ! Did  not  Paul  of  Tarsus,  whom  admiring  men 
4 have  since  named  Saint,  feel  that  he  was  44  the  chief  of  sin- 
4 ners,”  and  Nero  of  Borne,  jocund  in  spirit  (wohlgemuth), 
4 spend  much  of  his  time  in  fiddling?  Foolish  Word-monger, 


THE  EVERLASTING  NO . 


133 


1 and  Motive-grinder,  who  in  thy  Logic-mill  hast  an  earthly 
‘ mechanism  for  the  God-like  itself,  and  wonldst  fain  grind 
‘ me  out  Virtue  from  the  husks  of  Pleasure, — I tell  thee,  Nay  ! 

‘ To  the  unregenerate  Prometheus  Vinctus  of  a man,  it  is  ever 
c the  bitterest  aggravation  of  his  wretchedness  that  he  is  con- 
‘ scious  of  Virtue,  that  he  feels  himself  the  victim  not  of  suf- 
‘ fering  only,  but  of  injustice.  What  then  ? Is  the  heroic  in- 
‘ spiration  we  name  Virtue  but  some  Passion  ; some  bubble  of 
‘ the  blood,  bubbling  in  the  direction  others  profit  by  ? I 
‘ know  not : only  this  I know,  If  what  thou  namest  Happiness 
6 be  our  true  aim,  then  are  we  all  astray.  With  Stupidity  and 
‘ sound  Digestion  man  may  front  much.  But  what,  in  these 
* dull  unimaginative  days,  are  the  terrors  of  Conscience  to  the 
‘ diseases  of  the  Liver  ! Not  on  Morality,  but  on  Cookery  let 
‘ us  build  our  stronghold  : there  brandishing  our  fryingpan, 

‘ as  censer,  let  us  offer  sweet  incense  to  the  Devil,  and  live  at 
c ease  on  the  fat  things  he  has  provided  for  his  Elect ! 5 

Thus  has  the  bewildered  Wanderer  to  stand,  as  so  many 
have  done,  shouting  question  after  question  into  the  Sibyl- 
cave  of  Destiny,  and  receive  no  Answer  but  an  Echo.  It  is 
all  a grim  Desert,  this  once  fair  world  of  his  ; wherein  is 
heard  only  the  howling  of  wild  beasts,  or  the  shrieks  of  de- 
* spairing,  hate-filled  men  ; and  no  Pillar  of  Cloud  by  day,  and 
no  Pillar  of  Fire  by  night,  any  longer  guides  the  Pilgrim. 
To  such  length  has  the  spirit  of  Inquiry  carried  him.  ‘ But 
what  boots  it  ( was  thuts ) ? ’ cries  he  ; c it  is  but  the  common 
‘ lot  in  this  era.  Not  having  come  to  spiritual  majority  prior 
‘ to  the  Silcle  de  Louis  Quinze,  and  not  being  born  purely  a 
‘ Loghead  ( Dummkopf ),  thou  hadst  no  other  outlook.  The 
‘ whole  world  is,  like  thee,  sold  to  Unbelief  ; their  old  Tem- 
e pies  of  the  Godhead,  which  for  long  have  not  been  rain- 
‘ proof,  crumble  down  ; and  men  ask  now : Where  is  the 
‘ Godhead  ; our  eyes  never  saw  him  ! ’ 

Pitiful  enough  were  it,  for  all  these  wild  utterances,  to  call 
our  Diogenes  wicked.  Unprofitable  servants  as  we  all  are, 
perhaps  at  no  era  of  his  life  was  he  more  de.  isively  the  Ser- 
vant of  Goodness,  the  Servant  of  God,  than  even  now  when 
doubting  God’s  existence.  ‘ One  circumstance  I note/  says 


134 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


lie  : ‘ after  all  the  nameless  woe  that  Inquiry,  which  for  me, 
c what  it  is  not  always,  was  genuine  Love  of  Truth,  had 
‘ wrought  me,  I nevertheless  still  loved  Truth,  and  would 
c bate  no  jot  of  my  allegiance  to  her.  “ Truth ! ” I cried, 
c “ though  the  Heavens  crush  me  for  following  her:  no  False- 
‘ hood ! though  a whole  celestial  Lubberland  were  the  price 
‘ of  Apostacy.”  In  conduct  it  was  the  same.  Had  a divine 
‘ Messenger  from  the  clouds,  or  miraculous  Handwriting  on 
‘ the  wall,  convincingly  proclaimed  to  me  This  thou  shalt  do, 
‘ with  what  passionate  readiness,  as  I often  thought,  would  I 
‘ have  done  it,  had  it  been  leaping  into  the  infernal  Fire  ! 
‘ Thus,  in  spite  of  all  Motive-grinders,  and  Mechanical  Profit- 
‘ and-Loss  Philosophies,  with  the  sick  ophthalmia  and  hallu- 
‘ cination  they  had  brought  on,  was  the  Infinite  nature  of 
‘ Duty  still  dimly  present  to  me  : living  without  God  in  the 
c world,  of  God’s  light  I was  not  utterly  bereft ; if  my  as  yet 
c sealed  eyes,  with  their  unspeakable  longing,  could  nowhere 
‘ see  Him,  nevertheless  in  my  heart  He  was  present,  and  His 
‘ heaven-written  Law  still  stood  legible  and  sacred  there.’ 

Meanwhile,  under  all  these  tribulations,  and  temporal  and 
spiritual  destitutions,  what  must  the  Wanderer,  in  his  silent 
soul,  have  endured ! ‘ The  painfullest  feeling/  writes  he,  ‘ is 

c that  of  your  own  Feebleness  ( Unkraft) ; ever  as  the  English 
‘ Milton  says,  to  be  weak  is  the  true  misery.  And  yet  of 
‘ your  Strength  there  is  and  can  be  no  clear  feeling,  save  by 
‘ what  you  have  prospered  in,  by  what  you  have  done.  Be- 
‘ tween  vague  wavering  Capability  and  fixed  indubitable  Per- 
‘ formance,  what  a difference ! A certain  inarticulate  Self- 
‘ consciousness  dwells  dimly  in  us ; which  only  our  Works 
c can  render  articulate  and  decisively  discernible.  Our  Works 
‘ are  the  mirror  wherein  the  spirit  first  sees  its  natural  linea- 
‘ ments.  Hence,  too,  the  folly  of  that  impossible  Precept, 
‘ Know  thyself ; till  it  be  translated  into  this  partially  possible 
‘ one,  Know  what  thou  canst  work  at. 

‘ But  for  me,  so  strangely  unprosperous  had  I been,  the 
‘ net  result  of  my  Workings  amounted  as  yet  simply  to — 
‘ Nothing.  How  then  could  I believe  in  my  Strength,  when 
4 there  was  as  yet  no  mirror  to  see  it  in  ? Ever  did  this  agi- 


TEE  EVERLASTING  NO. 


135 


f tating,  yet,  as  I now  perceive,  quite  frivolous  question,  re- 
4 main  to  me  insoluble : Hast  thou  a certain  Faculty,  a certain 
4 Worth,  such  even  as  the  most  have  not ; or  art  thou  the 
4 completest  Dullard  of  these  modern  times  ? Alas  ! the  fear- 
4 ful  Unbelief  is  unbelief  in  yourself  ; and  how  could  I believe? 
4 Had  not  my  first,  last  Faith  in  myself,  when  even  to  me  the 
4 Heavens  seemed  laid  open,  and  I dared  to  love,  been  all-too 
4 cruelly  belied  ? The  speculative  Mystery  of  Life  grew  ever 
4 more  mysterious  to  me ; neither  in  the  practical  Mystery 
4 had  I made  the  slightest  progress,  but  been  everywhere 
4 buffeted,  foiled,  and  contemptuously  cast,  out.  A feeble 
4 unit  in  the  middle  of  a threatening  Infinitude,  I seemed  to 
4 have  nothing  given  me  but  eyes,  whereby  to  discern  my 
4 own  wretchedness.  Invisible  yet  impenetrable  walls,  as  of 
4 Enchantment,  divided  me  from  all  living  : was  there,  in  the 
4 wide  world,  any  true  bosom  I could  press  trustfully  to  mine  ? 
4 O Heaven,  No,  there  was  none  ! I kept  a lock  upon  my 
4 lips  : why  should  I speak  much  with  that  shifting  variety  of 
4 so-called  Friends,  in  whose  withered,  vain,  and  too  hungry 
4 souls,  Friendship  was  but  an  incredible  tradition  ? In  such 
4 cases,  your  resource  is  to  talk  little,  and  that  little  mostly  from 
4 the  Newspapers.  Now  when  I look  back,  it  was  a strange  isola- 
4 tion  I then  lived  in.  The  men  and  women  around  me,  even 
4 speaking  with  me,  were  but  Figures  : I had,  practically,  for- 
4 gotten  that  they  were  alive,  that  they  were  not  merely  au- 
4 tomatic.  In  midst  of  their  crowded  streets,  and  assem- 
4 blages,  I walked  solitary ; and  (except  as  it  was  my  own 
4 heart,  not  another’s,  that  I kept  devouring)  savage  also,  as 
4 the  tiger  in  his  jungle.  Some  comfort  it  would  have  been, 
4 could  I,  like  a Faust,  have  fancied  myself  tempted  and  tor- 
4 mented  of  the  Devil ; for  a Hell,  as  I imagine,  without  Life, 
4 though  only  diabolic  Life,  were  more  frightful : but  in  our 
4 age  of  Downpulling  and  Disbelief,  the  very  Devil  has  been 
4 pulled  down,  you  cannot  so  much  as  believe  in  a Devil.  To 
4 me  the  Universe  was  all  void  of  Life,  of  Purpose,  of  Volition, 
4 even  of  Hostility  : it  was  one  huge,  dead,  immeasurable 
4 Steam-engine,  rolling  on,  in  its  dead  indifference,  to  grind 
4 me  limb  from  limb.  O the  vast,  gloomy,  solitary  Golgotha, 


136 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 and  Mill  of  Death  ! Why  was  the  Living  banished  thither 
* companionless,  conscious  ? Why  if  there  is  no  Devil ; nay, 
4 unless  the  Devil  is  your  God  ? ’ 

A prey  incessantly  to  such  corrosions,  might  not,  more- 
over, as  the  worst  aggravation  to  them,  the  iron  constitution 
even  of  a Teufelsdrockh  threaten  to  fail  ? We  conjecture  that 
he  has  known  sickness  ; and,  in  spite  of  his  locomotive  habits, 
perhaps  sickness  of  the  chronic  sort.  Hear  this,  for  example  : 
4 How  beautiful  to  die  of  broken-heart,  on  Paper ! Quite 
4 another  thing  in  Practice  ; every  window  of  your  Feeling, 
4 even  of  your  Intellect  as  it  were,  begrimed  and  mud-bespat- 
4 tered,  so  that  no  pure  ray  can  enter  ; a whole  Drugshop  in 
4 your  inwards  ; the  foredone  soul  drowning  slowly  in  quag- 
4 mires  of  Disgust ! 9 

Putting  all  which  external  and  internal  miseries  together, 
may  we  not  find  in  the  following  sentences,  quite  in  our  Pro- 
fessor’s still  vein,  significance  enough?  4 From  Suicide  a 
4 certain  after-shine  (. Nachschem ) of  Christianity  withheld  me  : 
4 perhaps  also  a certain  indolence  of  character ; for,  was  not 
4 that  a remedy  I had  at  any  time  within  reach  ? Often,  how- 
4 ever,  was  there  a question  present  to  me  : Should  some  one 
4 now,  at  the  turning  of  that  corner,  blow  thee  suddenly  out 
4 of  Space,  into  the  other  World,  or  other  No- world,  by  pistol- 
4 shot, — how  were  it  ? On  which  ground,  too,  I have  often, 
4 in  sea-storms  and  sieged  cities  and  other  death-scenes,  ex- 
4 hibitexl  an  imperturbability,  which  passed,  falsely  enough,  for 
4 courage.’ 

4 So  had  it  lasted,’ concludes  the  Wanderer,  4 so  liaditlast- 
4 ed  as  in  bitter  protracted  Death-agony,  through  long  years. 
4 The  heart  within  me,  unvisited  by  any  heavenly  dewdrop, 
4 was  smouldering  in  sulphurous,  slow-consuming  fire.  Al- 
4 most  since  earliest  memory  I had  shed  no  tear  ; or  once  only 
4 when  I,  murmuring  half-audibly,  recited  Faust’s  Deathsong, 

4 that  wild  Selig  der  den  er  im  Sieges-glanze  findet  (Happy 
4 whom  he  finds  in  Battle’s  splendour),  and  thought  that  of 
4 this  last  Friend  even  I was  not  forsaken,  that  destiny  itself 
4 could  not  doom  me  not  to  die.  Having  no  hope,  neither 
4 had  I any  definite  fear,  were  it  of  Man  or  of  Devil : nay,  I often 


TEE  EVERLASTING  NO. 


137 


4 felt  as  if  it  might  be  solacing,  could  the  Arch-Devil  himself, 
4 though  in  Tartarean  terrors,  but  rise  to  me,  that  I might  tell 
4 him  a little  of  my  mind.  And  yet,  strangely  enough,  I lived 
4 in  a continual,  indefinite,  pining  fear ; tremulous,  pusillani- 
4 mous,  apprehensive  of  I knew  not  what : it  seemed  as  if  all 
4 things  in  the  Heavens  above  and  the  Earth  beneath  would 
4 hurt  me  ; as  if  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  were  but  bound- 
4 less  jaws  of  a devouring  monster,  wherein  I,  palpitating, 
4 waited  to  be  devoured. 

4 Full  of  such  humour,  and  perhaps  the  miserablest  man  in 
4 the  whole  French  Capital  or  Suburbs,  was  I,  one  sultry  Dog- 
4 day,  after  much  perambulation,  toiling  along  the  dirty  little 
4 Rue  Saint-Thomas  cle  I’Enfer , among  civic  rubbish  enough, 
4 in  a close  atmosphere,  and  over  pavements  hot  as  Nebuchad- 
4 nezzar’s  Furnace  ; whereby  doubtless  my  spirits  were  little 
4 cheered ; when,  all  at  once,  there  rose  a Thought  in  me,  and 
4 1 asked  myself  44  What  art  thou  afraid  of  ? Wherefore,  like 
4 a coward,  dost  thou  for  ever  pip  and  whimper,  and  go  cow- 
4 ering  and  trembling  ? Despicable  biped  ! what  is  the  sum- 
4 total  of  the  worst  that  lies  before  thee  ? Death  ? Well, 
4 Death ; and  say  the  pangs  of  Tophet  too,  and  all  that  the 
4 Devil  and  Man  may,  will,  or  can  do  against  thee  ! Hast  thou 
4 not  a heart ; canst  thou  not  suffer  whatso  it  be ; and,  as  a 
4 Child  of  Freedom,  though  outcast,  trample  Tophet  itself 
4 under  thy  feet,  while  it  consumes  thee  ? Let  it  come,  then  ; 
4 1 will  meet  it  and  defy  it  ! ” And  as  I so  thought,  there 
4 rushed  like  a stream  of  fire  over  my  whole  soul ; and  I shook 
4 base  Fear  away  from  me  for  ever.  I was  strong,  of  unknown 
4 strength  ; a spirit,  almost  a god.  Ever  from  that  time,  the 
4 temper  of  my  misery  was  changed : not  Fear  or  whining 
4 Sorrow  was  it,  but  Indignation  and  grim  fire-eyed  Defiance. 

4 Thus  had  the  Everlasting  No  ( das  ewige  New)  pealed 
4 authoritatively  through  all  the  recesses  of  my  Being,  of  my 
4 Me  ; and  then  was  it  that  my  whole  Me  stood  up,  in  native 
4 God-created  majesty,  and  with  emphasis  recorded  its  Protest 
4 Such  a Protest,  the  most  important  transaction  in  Life,  may 
4 that  same  Indignation  and  Defiance,  in  a psychological  point 
4 of  view,  be  fitly  called.  The  Everlasting  No  had  said : 44  Be- 


138 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


6 hold,  thou  art  fatherless,  outcast,  and  the  Universe  is  mine 
‘ (the  Devil’s) to  which  my  whole  Me  now  made  answer: 
‘ “ I am  not  thine,  but  Free,  and  forever  hate  thee  ! ” 

‘ It  is  from  this  hour  that  I incline  to  date  my  Spiritual 
c New-birth,  or  Bapliometic  Fire-baptism  ; perhaps  I directly 
‘ thereupon  began  to  be  a Man.’ 


CHAPTEB  YIII 

CENTRE  OF  INDIFFERENCE. 

Though,  after  this  ‘ Baphometic  Fire-baptism 9 of  his,  our 
Wanderer  signifies  that  his  Unrest  was  but  increased  ; as,  in- 
deed, ‘Indignation  and  Defiance,’  especially  against  things  in 
general,  are  not  the  most  peaceable  inmates ; yet  can  the  Psy- 
chologist surmise  that  it  was  no  longer  a quite  hopeless  Un- 
rest ; that  henceforth  it  had  at  least  a fixed  centre  to  revolve 
round.  For  the  fire-baptised  soul,  long  so  scathed  and  thun- 
der-riven, here  feels  its  own  Freedom,  which  feeling  is  its 
Baphometic  Baptism  : the  citadel  of  its  whole  kingdom  it  has 
thus  gained  by  assault,  and  will  keep  inexpugnable  ; outwards 
from  which  the  remaining  dominions,  not  indeed  without  hard 
battling,  will  doubtless  by  degrees  be  conquered  and  pacifi- 
cated.  Under  another  figure,  we  might  say,  if  in  that  great 
moment,  in  the  Rue  Saint- Thomas  de  VEnfer , the  old  inward 
Satanic  School  was  not  yet  thrown  out  of  doors,  it  received 
peremptory  judicial  notice  to  quit ; — whereby,  for  the  rest, 
its  liowl-chantings,  Ernulphus-cur sings,  and  rebellious  gnash- 
ing of  teeth,  might,  in  the  mean  while,  become  only  the  more 
tumultuous,  and  difficult  to  keep  secret. 

Accordingly,  if  we  scrutinize  these  Pilgrimings  well,  there 
is  perhaps  discernible  henceforth  a certain  incipient  method 
in  their  madness.  Not  wholly  as  a Spectre  does  Teufelsdrockh 
now  storm  through  the  world  ; at  worst  as  a spectre-fighting 
Man,  nay  who  will  one  day  be  a Spectre-queller.  If  pilgrim- 
ing  restlessly  to  so  many  ‘ Saints’  Wells,’  and  ever  without 
quenching  of  his  thirst,  he  nevertheless  finds  little  secular 
wells,  whereby  from  time  to  time  some  alleviation  is  minis' 


CENTRE  OF  INDIFFERENCE . 


139 


tered.  In  a word,  lie  is  now,  if  not  ceasing,  yet  intermitting 
to  ‘eat  liis  own  heart and  clutches  round  him  outwardly  on 
the  Not-me  for  wliolesomer  food.  Does  not  the  following 
glimpse  exhibit  him  in  a much  more  natural  state  ? 

‘Towns  also  and  Cities,  especially  the  ancient,  I failed  not 
‘ to  look  upon  with  interest.  How  beautiful  to  see  thereby, 
‘ as  through  a long  vista,  into  the  remote  Time  ; to  have,  as  it 
‘ were,  an  actual  section  of  almost  the  earliest  Past  brought 
‘ safe  into  the  Present,  and  set  before  your  eyes  ! There,  in 
‘ that  old  City,  was  a live  ember  of  Culinary  Fire  put  down, 
‘ say  only  two  thousand  years  ago  ; and  there,  burning  more 
‘ or  less  triumphantly,  with  such  fuel  as  the  region  yielded,  it 
‘ has  burnt,  and  still  burns,  and  thou  thyself  seest  the  very 
‘ smoke  thereof.  Ah ! and  the  far  more  mysterious  live  ember 
‘ of  Vital  Fire  was  then  also  put  down  there  ; and  still  miracu- 
‘ lously  burns  and  spreads  ; and  the  smoke  and  ashes  thereof 
‘ (in  these  Judgment-Halls  and  Churchyards),  and  its  bellows- 
‘ engines  (in  these  Churches),  thou  still  seest  ; and  its  flame, 
‘ looking  out  from  every  kind  countenance,  and  every  hateful 
‘ one,  still  warms  thee  or  scorches  thee. 

‘ Of  Man’s  Activity  and  Attainment  the  chief  results  are 
‘ aeriform,  mystic,  and  preserved  in  Tradition  only  : such  are 
‘ his  Forms  of  Government,  with  the  Authority  they  rest  on  ; 
‘ his  Customs,  or  Fashions  both  of  Cloth-Habits  and  of  Soul- 
‘ habits ; much  more  his  collective  stock  df  Handicrafts,  the 
‘ whole  Faculty  he  has  required  of  manipulating  Nature : all 
‘ these  things,  as  indispensable  and  priceless  as  they  are,  can- 
‘ not  in  any  way  be  fixed  under  lock  and  key,  but  must  flit, 
c spirit-like,  on  impalpable  vehicles,  from  Father  to  Son  ; if 
‘ you  demand  sight  of  them,  they  are  nowhere  to  be  met  with. 
‘ Visible  Ploughmen  and  Hammermen  there  have  been,  ever 
‘ from  Cain  and  Tubalcain  downwards  : but  where  does  your 
‘ accumulated  Agricultural,  Metallurgic,  and  other  Manufac- 
‘ turing  Skill  lie  warehoused  ? It  transmits  itself  on  the  at- 
‘ mospheric  air,  on  the  sun’s  rays  (by  Hearing  and  by  Vision) ; 
‘it  is  a thing  aeriform,  impalpable,  of  quite  spiritual  sort. 
‘ In  like  manner,  ask  me  not,  Where  are  the  Laws  ; where  is 
‘ the  Goveknment  ? In  vain  wilt  thou  go  to  Schonbrunn,  to 


140 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ Downing  Street,  to  the  Palais  Bourbon  : thou  findest  noth- 
‘ ing  there,  but  brick  or  stone  houses,  and  some  bundles  of 
‘ Papers  tied  with  tape.  Where  then  is  that  same  cunningly- 
‘ devised  almighty  Government  of  theirs  to  be  laid  hands  on  ? 
‘ Every  where,  yet  nowhere  : seen  only  in  its  works,  this  too 
‘is  a thing  aeriform,  invisible;  or  if  you  will,  mystic  and 
‘ miraculous.  So  spiritual  ( geistig ) is  our  whole  daily  Life  : 
‘ all  that  we  do  springs  out  of  Mystery,  Spirit,  invisible  Force  ; 
‘ only  like  a little  Cloud-image,  or  Armida’s  Palace,  air-built, 
‘does  the  Actual  body  itself  forth  from  the  great  mystic 
‘ Deep. 

‘ Visible  and  tangible  products  of  the  Past,  again,  I reckon 
‘ up  to  the  extent  of  three  : Cities,  with  their  Cabinets  and 
‘ Arsenals  ; then  tilled  Fields,  to  either  or  to  both  of  which 
‘ divisions  Boads  with  their  Bridges  may  belong  ; and  thirdly 

‘ Books.  In  which  third  truly,  the  last-invented,  lies  a 

‘ worth  far  surpassing  that  of  the  two  others.  Wondrous  in- 
‘ deed  is  the  virtue  of  a true  Book.  Not  like  a dead  city  of 
‘ stones,  yearly  crumbling,  yearly  needing  repair ; more  like 
‘ a tilled  field,  but  then  a spiritual  field  : like  a spiritual  tree, 
‘ let  me  rather  say,  it  stands  from  year  to  year,  and  from  age 
‘ to  age  (we  have  Books  that  already  number  some  hundred- 
‘ and-fifty  human  ages)  ; and  yearly  comes  its  new  produce  of 
‘ leaves  (Commentaries,  Deductions,  Philosophical,  Political 
‘ Systems  ; or  were  it  only  Sermons,  Pamphlets,  Journalistic 
‘Essays),  every  one  of  which  is  talismanic  and  thaumaturgic, 
‘ for  it  can  persuade  men.  O thou  who  art  able  to  write  a 
‘ Book,  which  once  in  the  two  centuries  or  ©ftener  there  is  a 
‘ man  gifted  to  do,  envy  not  him  whom  they  name  City- 
‘ builder,  and  inexpressibly  pity  him  whom  they  name  Con- 
‘ queror  or  City-burner  ! Thou  too  art  a Conqueror  and  Vie- 
‘ tor  ; but  of  the  true  feort,  namely  over  the  Devil : thou  too 
‘ hast  built  what  will  outlast  all  marble  and  metal,  and  be  a 
‘ wonder-bringing  City  of  the  Mind,  a Temple  and  Seminary 
‘ and  Prophetic  Mount,  whereto  all  kindreds  of  the  Earth  will 
‘pilgrim. — Fool!  why  journeyest  thou  wearisomely,  in  thy 
c antiquarian  fervour,  to  gaze  on  the  stone  pyramids  of  Geeza 
* or  the  clay  ones  of  Sacchara  ? These  stand  there,  as  I can 


CENTRE  OF  INDIFFERENCE. 


141 


‘ tell  thee,  idle  and  inert,  looking  over  the  Desert,  foolishly 
‘ enough,  for  the  last  three  thousand  years  : but  canst  thou 
£ not  open  thy  Hebrew  Bible,  then,  or  even  Luther’s  Version 
£ thereof  ? ’ 

No  less  satisfactory  is  his  sudden  appearance  not  in  Battle, 
yet  on  some  Battle-field  ; which,  we  soon  gather,  must  be  that 
of  Wagram  : so  that  here,  for  once,  is  a certain  approximation 
to  distinctness  of  date.  Omitting  much,  let  us  impart  what 
follows  : 

£ Horrible  enough ! A whole  Marchfield  strewed  with  shell- 
‘ splinters,  cannon-shot,  ruined  tumbrils,  and  dead  men  and 
‘ horses  ; stragglers  still  remaining  not  so  much  as  buried. 
£ And  those  red  mould  heaps  : ay,  there  lie  the  Shells  of  Men, 
£ out  of  which  all  the  Life  and  Virtue  has  been  blown  ; and 
£ now  are  they  swept  together,  and  crammed  down  out  of 
c sight,  like  blown  Egg-shells ! — Did  Nature,  when  she  bade 
‘ the  Donau  bring  down  his  mould  cargoes  from  the  Carin- 
£ thian  and  Carpathian  Heights,  and  spread  them  out  here 
‘ into  the  softest,  richest  level, — intend  thee,  O Marchfield, 
£ for  a corn-bearing  Nursery,  whereon  her  children  might  be 
£ nursed  ; or  for  a Cockpit,  wherein  they  might  the  more  com- 
* modiously  be  throttled  and  tattered?  Were  thy  three  broad 
£ highways,  meeting  here  from  the  ends  of  Europe,  made  for 
c Ammunition- wagons  then  ? Were  thy  Wagrams  and  Still- 
4 frieds  but  so  many  ready-built  Casemates,  wherein  the  house 
‘ of  Hapsburg  might  batter  with  artillery,  and  with  artillery 
‘ be  battered  ? Konig  Ottokar,  amid  yonder  hillocks,  dies 
£ under  Bodolf’ s truncheon  ; here  Kaiser  Franz  falls  a-swoon 
‘ under  Napoleon’s : within  which  five  centuries,  to  omit  the 
£ others,  how  has  thy  breast,  fair  Plain,  been  defaced  and  de- 
4 filed ! The  greensward  is  torn  up  and  trampled  down  ; 
£ man’s  fond  care  of  it,  his  fruit-trees,  hedge-rows,  and  pleas- 
£ ant  dwellings,  blown  away  with  gunpowder ; and  the  kind 
£ seedfield  lies  a desolate,  hideous  Place  of  Sculls. — Neverthe- 
‘ less,  Nature  is  at  work  ; neither  shall  these  Powder-Devil- 
£ kins  with  their  utmost  devilry  gainsay  her : but  all  that  gore 
£ and  carnage  will  be  shrouded  in,  absorbed  into  manure ; 
£ and  next  year  the  Marchfield  will  be  green,  nay,  greener. 


142 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ Thrifty  unwearied  Nature,  ever  out  of  our  great  waste  eduo 
‘ ing  some  little  profit  of  thy  own, — how  dost  thou,  from  the 
‘ very  carcass  of  the  Killer,  bring  Life  for  the  Living. 

* What,  speaking  in  quite  unofficial  language,  is  the  net 
* purport  and  upshot  of  war  ? To  my  own  knowledge,  for 
c example,  there  dwell  and  toil,  in  the  British  village  of  Dum- 
‘ drudge,  usually  some  five  hundred  souls.  From  these,  by 
‘ certain  “ Natural  Enemies  ” of  the  French,  there  are  succes- 
‘ sively  selected,  during  the  French  war,  say  thirty  able-bodied 
€ men : Dumdrudge,  at  her  own  expense,  has  suckled  aud 
‘ nursed  them  ; she  has,  not  without  difficulty  and  sorrow,  fed 
‘ them  up  to  manhood,  and  even  trained  them  up  to  crafts,  so 
‘ that  one  can  weave,  another  build,  another  hammer,  and  the 
‘ weakest  can  stand  under  thirty  stone  avoirdupois.  Never- 
‘ theless,  amid  much  weeping  and  swearing,  they  are  selected ; 
c all  dressed  in  red  ; and  shipped  away,  at  the  public  charges, 
‘ some  two  thousand  miles,  or  say  only  to  the  south  of  Spain  ; 
‘ and  fed  there  till  wanted.  And  now  to  that  same  spot  in  the 
1 south  of  Spain,  are  thirty  similar  French  artisans,  from  a 
‘ French  Dumdrudge,  in  like  manner  wending : till  at  length, 
4 after  infinite  effort,  the  two  parties  come  into  actual  juxta- 
‘ position  ; and  Thirty  stands  fronting  Thirty,  each  with  a 
‘ gun  in  his  hand.  Straightway  the  word  “ Fire ! ” is  given  : 

and  they  blow  the  souls  out  of  one  another  ; and  in  place  of 
‘ sixty  brisk  useful  craftsmen,  the  world  has  sixty  dead  car- 
‘ casses,  which  it  must  bury,  and  anew  shed  tears  for.  Had 
c these  men  any  quarrel  ? Busy  as  the  Devil  is,  not  the  small- 
‘ est ! They  lived  far  enough  apart ; were  the  entirest  stran- 
‘ gers  ; nay,  in  so  wide  a Universe,  there  was  even,  uncon- 
£ sciously,  by  Commerce,  some  mutual  helpfulness  between 
‘ them.  How  then  ? Simpleton ! their  Governors  had  fallen 
£ out ; and,  instead  of  shooting  one  another,  had  the  cunning 
c to  make  these  poor  blockheads  shoot. — Alas,  so  is  it  in 
‘ Deutschland,  and  hitherto  in  all  other  lands  ; still  as  of  old, 
‘ “what  devilry  soever  Kings  do,  the  Greeks  must  pay  the 
‘ piper ! ” — In  that  fiction  of  the  English  Smollett,  it  is  true, 
c the  final  Cessation  of  War  is  perhaps  prophetically  shadowed 
( forth ; where  the  two  Natural  Enemies,  in  person,  take  each 


CENTRE  OF  INDIFFERENCE. 


143 


c a Tobacco-pipe,  filled  with  Brimstone  ; light  the  same,  and 
‘ smoke  in  one  another’s  faces  till  the  weaker  gives  in  : but 
c from  such  predicted  Peace-Era,  what  blood-filled  trenches, 
‘ and  contentious  centuries,  may  still  divide  us  ! ’ 

Thus  can  the  Professor,  at  least  in  lucid  intervals,  look 
away  from  his  own  sorrows,  over  the  many-coloured  world, 
and  pertinently  enough  note  what  is  passing  there.  We  may 
remark,  indeed,  that  for  the  matter  of  spiritual  culture,  if  for 
nothing  else,  perhaps  few  periods  of  his  life  were  richer  than 
this.  Internally,  there  is  the  most  momentous  instructive 
Course  of  Practical  Philosophy,  with  Experiments,  going  on  ; 
towards  the  right  comprehension  of  which  his  Peripatetic 
habits,  favourable  to  Meditation,  might  help  him  rather  than 
hinder.  Externally,  again,  as  he  wanders  to  and  fro,  there 
are,  if  for  the  longing  heart  little  substance,  yet  for  the  seeing 
eye  sights  enough : in  these  so  boundless  Travels  of  his, 
granting  that  the  Satanic  School  was  even  partially  kept 
down,  what  an  incredible  Knowledge  of  our  Planet,  and  its 
Inhabitants  and  their  Works,  that  is  to  say,  of  all  knowable 
things,  might  not  Teufelsdrockh  acquire  ! 

fI  have  read  in  most  Public  Libraries,’  says  he,  ‘ including 

* those  of  Constantinople  and  Samarcand  : in  most  Colleges, 
‘ except  the  Chinese  Mandarin  ones,  I have  studied,  or  seen 
c that  there  was  no  studying.  Unknown  Languages  have  I 
‘ often  est  gathered  from  their  natural  repertory,  the  Air,  by 
‘ my  organ  of  Hearing  ; Statistics,  Geographies,  Topographies 
‘ came,  through  the  Eye,  almost  of  their  own  accord.  The 
c ways  of  Man,  how  he  seeks  food,  and  warmth,  and  pro- 
‘ tection  for  himself,  in  most  regions,  are  ocularly  known  to 

* me.  Like  the  great  Hadrian,  I meted  out  much  of  the  ter- 
‘ raqueous  Globe  with  a pair  of  Compasses  that  belonged  to 

* myself  only. 

‘ Of  great  Scenes,  why  speak  ? Three  summer  days,  I lin- 
gered reflecting,  and  even  composing  (< dichtete ),  by  the 
‘ Pine-chasms  of  Yaucluse ; and  in  that  clear  Lakelet  mois- 
‘ tened  my  bread.  I have  sat  under  the  palm-trees  of  Tad- 
‘ mor ; smoked  a pipe  among  the  ruins  of  Babylon.  The 
‘ great  Wall  of  China  I have  seen ; and  can  testify  that  it  is  of 


144 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘grey  brick,  coped  and  covered  with,  granite,  and  shews  only 
‘ second-rate  masonry. — Great  events,  also,  have  I not  wit- 
nessed ? Kings  sweated  down  ( ausgemergelt ) into  Berlin- 
£and-Milan  Custom-house-officers;  the  World  well  won,  and 
£ the  world  well  lost ; oftener  than  once  a hundred  thousand 
£ individuals  shot  (by  each  other)  in  one  day.  All  kindreds 
£ and  peoples  and  nations  dashed  together,  and  shifted  and 
‘ shovelled  into  heaps,  that  they  might  ferment  there,  and  in 
£ time  unite.  The  birth-pangs  of  Democracy,  wherewith  con- 
£ vulsed  Europe  was  groaning  in  cries  that  reached  Heaven, 
£ could  not  escape  me. 

£ For  great  Men  I have  ever  had  the  warmest  predilection  ; 
£ and  can  perhaps  boast  that  few  such  in  this  era  have  wholly 
£ escaped  me.  Great  Men  are  the  inspired  (speaking  and  act- 
ing) Texts  of  that  divine  Book  of  Revelations,  whereof  a 
£ Chapter  is  completed  from  epoch  to  epoch,  and  by  some 
£ named  History  ; to  which  inspired  Texts  your  numerous 
£ talented  men,  and  your  innumerable  untalented  men,  are 
£ the  better  or  worse  exegetic  Commentaries,  and  wagonload 
‘ of  too-stupid,  heretical  or  orthodox,  weekly  Sermons.  For 
£ my  study,  the  inspired  Texts  themselves  ! Thus  did  I not, 
£ in  very  early  days,  having  disguised  me  as  tavern-waiter, 
£ stand  behind  the  field-chairs,  under  that  shady  Tree  at  Treis- 
£ nitz  by  the  Jena  Highway  ; waiting  upon  the  great  Schiller 
£ and  greater  Goethe  ; and  hearing  what  I have  not  forgotten. 
£ For ’ 

But  at  this  point  the  Editor  recalls  his  principle  of 

caution,  some  time  ago  laid  down,  and  must  suppress  much. 
Let  not  the  sacredness  of  Laurelled,  still  more,  of  Crowned 
Heads,  be  tampered  with.  Should  we,  at  a future  day,  find 
circumstances  altered,  and  the  time  come  for  Publication, 
then  may  these  glimpses  into  the  privacy  of  the  Illustrious  be 
conceded ; which  for  the  present  were  little  better  than 
treacherous,  perhaps  traitorous  Eavesdroppings.  Of  Lord 
Byron,  therefore,  of  Pope  Pius,  Emperor  Tarakwahg,  the 
£ White  Water-roses  ’ (Chinese  Carbonari)  with  their  mysteries, 
no  notice  here  ! Of  Napoleon  himself  we  shall  only,  glancing 
from  afar,  remark  that  TeufelsdrOckh’s  relation  to  him  seems 


CENTRE  OF  INDIFFERENCE. 


145 

to  have  been  of  very  varied  character.  At  first  we  find  our 
poor  Professor  on  the  point  of  being  shot  as  a spy  ; then 
taken  into  private  conversation,  even  pinched  on  the  ear,  yet 
presented  with  no  money  ; at  last  indignantly  dismissed,  al- 
most thrown  out  of  doors  as  an  ‘Ideologist/  ‘He  himself/ 
says  the  Professor,  ‘was  among  the  completesb  Ideologists,  at 
‘ least  Ideopraxists  : in  the  Idea  (in  dev  Idee)  he  lived,  moved, 
‘ and  fought.  The  man  was  a Divine  Missionary,  though  un- 
‘ conscious  of  it ; and  preached,  through  the  cannon’s  throat, 
‘ that  great  doctrine,  La  carrilre  ouverte  aux  talent  (The  Tools 
‘ to  him  that  can  handle  them),  which  is  our  ultimate  Politi- 
cal Evangel,  wherein  alone  can  Liberty  lie.  Madly  enough 
‘ he  preached,  it  is  true,  as  Enthusiasts  and  first  Missionaries 
‘ are  wont,  with  imperfect  utterance,  amid  much  frothy  rant ; 
‘yet  as  articulately  perhaps  as  the  case  admitted.  Or  call 
‘him,  if  you  will,  an  American  Backwoodsman,  who  had  to 
‘ fell  unpenetrated  forests,  and  battle  with  innumerable  wolves, 
‘ and  did  not  entirely  forbear  strong  liquor,  rioting,  and  even 
‘ theft ; whom,  notwithstanding,  the  peaceful  Sower  will  fol- 
‘ low,  and,  as  he  cuts  the  boundless  harvest,  bless/ 

More  legitimate  and  decisively  authentic  is  Teufelsdrockli’s 
appearance  and  emergence  (we  know  not  well  whence)  in  the 
solitude  of  the  North  Cape,  on  that  June  Midnight.  He  has  a 
‘ light-blue  Spanish  cloak  ’ hanging  round  him,  as  his  ‘ most 
commodious,  principal,  indeed  sole  upper-garment and  stands 
there,  on  the  World-promontory,  looking  over  the  infinite 
Brine,  like  a little  blue  Belfry  (as  we  figure),  now  motionless 
indeed,  yet  ready,  if  stirred  to  ring  quaintest  changes. 

‘Silence  as  of  death/  writes  he  ; ‘for  midnight,  even  in  the 
‘ Arctic  latitudes,  has  its  character : nothing  but  the  granite 
‘ cliffs  ruddy-tinged,  the  peaceable  gurgle  of  that  slow-heaving 
‘ Polar  Ocean,  over  which  in  the  utmost  North  the  great  Sun 
‘ hangs  low  and  lazy,  as  if  he  too  were  slumbering.  Yet  is 
‘ his  cloud-couch  wrought  of  crimson  and  cloth-of-gold ; yet 
‘ does  his  light  stream  over  the  mirror  of  waters,  like  a trem- 
‘ ulous  fire-pillar,  shooting  downwards  to  the  abyss,  and  hide 
‘ itself  under  my  feet.  In  such  moments,  Solitude  also  is  in- 
‘ valuable  ; for  who  would  speak,  or  be  looked  on,  when  behind 
10 


146 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 him  lies  all  Europe  and  Africa,  fast  asleep,  except  the  watch- 
4 men  ; and  before  him  the  silent  Immensity,  and  Palace  oi 
4 the  Eternal,  whereof  our  Sun  is  but  a porch-lamp. 

4 Nevertheless,  in  this  solemn  moment,  comes  a man,  or  mon- 
4 ster,  scrambling  from  among  the  rock-hollows  ; and,  shaggy, 

4 huge  as  the  Hyperborean  Bear,  hails  me  in  Russian  speech  : 
4 most  probably,  therefore,  a Russian  Smuggler.  With  com- 
4 teous  brevity,  I signify  my  indifference  to  contraband  trade, 

4 my  humane  intentions,  yet  strong  wish  to  be  private.  In 
4 vain : the  monster,  counting  doubtless  on  his  superior 
4 stature,  and  minded  to  make  sport  for  himself,  or  perhaps 
4 profit,  were  it  with  murder,  continues  to  advance  ; ever  assail- 
4 ing  me  with  his  importunate  train-oil  breath  ; and  now  has 
4 advanced,  till  we  stand  both  on  the  verge  of  the  rock,  the 
4 deep  Sea  rippling  greedily  down  below.  What  argument 
4 will  avail  ? On  the  thick  Hyperborean,  cherubic  reasoning, 

4 seraphic  eloquence  were  lost.  Prepared  for  such  extremity, 
4 1,  deftly  enough,  whisk  aside  one  step  ; draw  out,  from  my 
4 interior  reservoirs,  a sufficient  Birmingham  Horse-pistol,  and 
4 say,  44  Be  so  obliging  as  retire,  Friend  (Er  ziehe  sick  zurucJc , 
4 Freund),  and  with  promptitude ! ” This  logic  even  the  Hy- 
4 perborean  understands  : fast  enough,  with  apologetic  peti- 
4 tionary  growl,  he  sidles  off ; and,  except  for  suicidal  as  well 
4 as  homicidal  purposes,  need  not  return. 

4 Such  I hold  to  be  the  genuine  use  of  Gunpowder  : that  it 
4 makes  all  men  alike  tall.  Nay,  if  thou  be  cooler,  cleverer 
4 than  I,  if  thou  have  more  Mind,  though  all  but  no  Body 
4 whatever,  then  canst  thou  kill  me  first,  and  art  the  taller. 

4 Hereby,  at  last,  is  the  Goliath  powerless,  and  the  David  re- 
4 sistless  ; savage  Animalism  is  nothing,  inventive  Spiritualism 
4 is  all. 

4 With  respect  to  Duels,  indeed,  I have  my  own  ideas.  Few 
4 things,  in  this  so  surprising  world,  strike  me  with  more  sur- 
4 prise.  Too  little  visual  Spectra  of  men,  hovering  with  insecure 
4 enough  cohesion  in  the  midst  of  the  Unfathomable,  and  to 
4 dissolve  therein,  at  any  rate,  very  soon, — make  pause  at  the 
4 distance  of  twelve  paces  asunder ; whirl  round ; and,  sim- 
ultaneously by  the  cunningest  mechanism,  explode  one 


CENTRE  OF  INDIFFERENCE 


147 


‘ another  into  Dissolution  ; and  off-hand  become  Air,  and  Non- 
* extant ! Deuse  on  it  ( verdammt ),  the  little  spitfires  ! — Nay, 
‘I  think  with  old  Hugo  von  Trimberg : “God  must  needs 
4 laugh  outright,  could  such  a thing  be,  to  see  his  wondrous 
4 Manikins  here  below.”  ’ 

But  amid  these  specialities,  let  us  not  forget  the  great  gen- 
erality, which  is  our  chief  quest  here  : How  prospered  the 
inner  man  of  Teufelsdrockh  under  so  much  outward  shifting  ? 
Does  Legion  still  lurk  in  him,  though  repressed ; or  has  he 
exorcised  that  Devil’s  Brood?  We  can  answer  that  the  symp- 
toms continue  promising.  Experience  is  the  grand  spiritual 
Doctor ; and  with  him  Teufelsdrockh  has  now  been  long  a 
patient,  swallowing  many  a bitter  bolus.  Unless  our  poor 
Friend  belong  to  the  numerous  class  of  Incurables,  which 
seems  not  likely,  some  cure  will  doubtless  be  effected.  We 
should  rather  say  that  Legion,  or  the  Satanic  School,  was  now 
pretty  well  extirpated  and  cast  out,  but  next  to  nothing  in- 
troduced in  its  room  ; whereby  the  heart  remains,  for  the 
while,  in  a quiet  but  no  comfortable  state. 

4 At  length,  after  so  much  roasting,’  thus  writes  our  Auto- 
biographer, c I was  what  you  might  name  calcined.  Pray  only 
4 that  it  be  not  rather,  as  is  the  more  frequent  issue,  reduced 
4 to  a caput-mortuum ! But  in  any  case,  by  mere  dint  of 
4 practice,  I had  grown  familiar  with  many  things.  Wretch- 
4 edness  was  still  wretched ; but  I could  now  partly  see 
‘through  it,  and  despise  it.  Which  highest  mortal,  in  this 
‘inane  Existence,  had  I not  found  a Shadow-hunter,  or 
4 Shadow-hunted  ; and,  when  I looked  through  his  brave  gar- 
4 nitures,  miserable  enough  ? Thy  wishes  have  all  been  sniff- 
4 ed  aside,  thought  I : but  what,  had  they  even  been  all 
4 granted  ! Did  not  the  Boy  Alexander  weep  because  he  had 
4 not  two  Planets  to  conquer ; or  a whole  Solar  System ; or 
4 after  that,  a whole  Universe  ? Ach  Gott , when  I gazed  into 
4 these  Stars,  have  they  not  looked  down  on  me  as  if  with 
4 pity,  from  their  serene  spaces ; like  Eyes  glistening  with 
4 heavenly  tears  over  the  little  lot  of  man  ! Thousands  of  hu- 
4 man  generations,  all  as  noisy  as  our  own,  have  been  swal- 


143 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ lowed  up  of  Time,  and  there  remains  no  wreck  of  them  any 
‘ more  ; and  Arcturus  and  Orion  and  Sirius  and  the  Pleiades 

- are  still  shining  in  their  courses,  clear  and  young,  as  when 

- the  Shepherd  first  noted  them  in  the  plain  of  Shinar.  Pshaw ! 

- what  is  this  paltry  little  Dog-cage  of  an  Earth ; what  art 

- thou  that  sittest  whining  there  ? Thou  art  still  Nothing, 

- Nobody  : time  ; but  who  then  is  Something,  Somebody  ? For 

- thee  the  Family  of  Man  has  no  use  ; it  rejects  thee  ; thou  art 

- wholly  as  a dissevered  limb  : so  be  it ; perhaps  it  is  better 
‘so!’ 

Too  heavy-laden  Teufelsdrockh  ! Yet  surely  his  bands  are 
loosening ; one  day  he  will  hurl  the  burden  far  from  him,  and 
bound  forth  free,  and  with  a second  youth. 

4 This,’  says  our  Professor,  c was  the  Centre  of  Indifference 

- I had  now  reached  ; through  which  whoso  travels  from  the 

- Negative  Pole  to  the  Positive  must  necessarily  pass/ 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

THE  EVERLASTING  YEA. 

‘ Temptations  in  the  Wilderness  ! ’ exclaims  Teufelsdrockh  : 

- Have  wre  not  all  to  be  tried  with  such  ? Not  so  easily  can  the 

- old  Adam,  lodged  in  us  by  birth,  be  dispossessed.  Our  Life 

- is  compassed  round  with  Necessity ; yet  is  the  meaning  of 

- Life  itself  no  other  than  Freedom,  than  Voluntary  Force  ; 

- thus  have  we  a warfare  ; in  the  beginning,  especially,  a hard- 
-fought battle.  For  the  God-given  mandate,  Work  thou  in 

- Welldoing , lies  mysteriously  written,  in  Promethean  Prophetic 

- Characters,  in  our  hearts ; and  leaves  us  no  rest,  night  or 

- day,  till  it  be  deciphered  and  obeyed  ; till  it  burn  forth, 

- in  our  conduct,  a visible,  acted  Gospel  of  Freedom.  And  as 
c the  clay- given  mandate,  Eat  thou  and  he  filled , at  the  same 
-time  persuasively  proclaims  itself  through  every  nerve, — 
‘must  there  not  be  a confusion,  a contest,  before  the  better 
‘ Influence  can  become  the  upper  ? 

- To  me  nothing  seems  more  natural  than  that  the  Son  of 
‘ Man,  when  such  God-given  mandate  first  prophetically  stirs 


THE  EVERLASTING  YEA. 


149 


* within  him,  and  the  Clay  must  now  be  vanquished  or  van- 
‘ quish, — should  be  carried  of  the  spirit  into  grim  Solitudes, 
‘and  there  fronting  the  Tempter  do  grimmest  battle  with 
‘ him ; defiantly  setting  him  at  naught,  till  he  yield  and  fly. 
‘ Name  it  as  we  choose  : with  or  without  visible  Devil,  whether 
‘ in  the  natural  Desert  of  rocks  and  sands,  or  in  the  pojDulous 
‘ moral  Desert  of  selfishness  and  baseness, — to  such  Tempta- 
‘ tion  are  we  all  called.  Unhappy  if  we  are  not.  Unhappy  if 
‘ we  are  but  Half-men,  in  whom  that  divine  handwriting  has 
‘ never  blazed  forth,  all-subduing,  in  true  sun-splendour  ; but 
‘ quivers  dubiously  amid  meaner  lights  : or  smoulders,  in  dull 
‘ pain,  in  darkness,  under  earthly  vapours  ! — Our  Wilderness 
‘ is  the  wide  World  in  an  Atheistic  Century  ; our  Forty  Days 
‘ are  long  years  of  suffering  and  fasting  : nevertheless,  to  these 
‘ also  comes  an  end.  Yes,  to  me  also  was  given,  if  not  Vic- 
‘ tory,  yet  the  consciousness  of  Battle,  and  the  resolve  to  per- 
‘ severe  therein  while  life  or  faculty  is  left.  To  me  also,  entangled 
‘ in  the  enchanted  forests,  demon-peopled,  doleful  of  sight  and 
‘ of  sound,  it  was  given,  after  weariest  wanderings,  to  work 
‘ out  my  way  into  the  higher  sunlit  slopes — of  that  Mountain 
‘ which  has  no  summit,  or  whose  summit  is  in  Heaven  only  ! ’ 

He  says  elsewhere,  under  a less  ambitious  figure  ; as  figures 
are,  once  for  all,  natural  to  him  : ‘ Has  not  thy  Life  been  that 
‘ of  most  sufficient  men  (tilchtigen  Manner)  thou  hast  known 
‘ in  this  generation  ? An  outflush  of  foolish  young  Enthusi- 
‘ asm,  like  the  first  fallow-crop,  wherein  are  as  many  weeds 
‘ as  valuable  herbs  : this  all  parched  away,  under  the  Droughts 
‘ of  practical  and  spiritual  Unbelief ; as  Disappointment,  in 
‘ thought  and  act,  often-repeated  gave  rise  to  Doubt,  and 
‘ Doubt  gradually  settled  into  Denial ! If  I have  had  a second- 
‘ crop,  and  now  see  the  perennial  greensward,  and  sit  under 
‘ unbrageous  cedars,  which  defy  all  Drought  (and  Doubt)  ; 
‘ herein  too,  be  the  Heavens  praised,  I am  not  without  ex- 
‘ amples,  and  even  exemplars.’ 

So  that,  for  Teufelsdrockh  also,  there  has  been  a ‘ glorious 
revolution  : ’ these  mad  shadow-hunting  and  shadow-hunted 
Pilgrimings  of  his  were  but  some  purifying  k Temptation  in 
the  Wilderness,’  before  his  apostolic  work  (such  as  it  was) 


150 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


could  begin  ; which  Temptation  is  now  happily  over,  a nd  the 
Devil  once  more  worsted  ! Was  4 that  high  moment  in  the 
Rue  de  VEnfer ,’  then,  properly  the  turning  point  of  the  battle  ; 
when  the  Fiend  said,  Worship  me , or  he  torn  in  shreds,  and 
was  answered  valiantly  with  an  Apage  Satana  ? — Singular  Teu- 
felsdrockh,  would  thou  hadst  told  thy  singular  story  in  plain 
words  ! But  it  is  fruitless  to  look  there,  in  those  Paper-bags, 
for  such.  Nothing  but  inuendoes,  figurative  crotchets : a 
typical  Shadow,  fitfully  wavering,  prophetico-satiric ; no  clear 
logical  Picture.  4 How  paint  to  the  sensual  eye,’  asks  he  once, 
4 what  passes  in  the  Holy-of-Holies  of  Man’s  Soul ; in  what 
4 words,  known  to  these  profane  times,  speak  even  afar  off  of 
4 the  unspeakable?’  We  ask  in  turn:  Why  perplex  these 
times,  profane  as  they  are,  with  needless  obscurity,  by  omis- 
sion and  by  commission  ? Not  mystical  only  is  our  Professor, 
but  whimsical ; and  involves  himself,  now  more  than  ever,  in 
eye-bewildering  chiaroscuro.  Successive  glimpses,  here  faith- 
fully imparted,  our  more  gifted  readers  must  endeavour  to 
combine  for  their  own  behoof. 

He  says  : ‘ The  hot  Harmattan-wind  had  raged  itself  out : 
4 its  howl  went  silent  within  me  ; and  the  long-deafened  soul 
4 could  now  hear.  I paused  in  my  wild  wanderings  ; and  sat 
4 me  down  to  wait,  and  consider  ; for  it  was  as  if  the  hour  of 
4 change  drew  nigh.  I seemed  to  surrender,  to  renounce  ut- 
4 terly,  and  say  : Fly,  then,  false  shadows  of  Hope  ; I will 
4 chase  you  no  more,  I will  believe  you  no  more.  And  ye  too 
4 haggard  spectres  of  Fear,  I care  not  for  you  ; ye  too  are  all 
4 shadows  and  a lie.  Let  me  rest  here  : for  I am  wray-weary 
4 and  life  weary  ; I will  rest  here,  were  it  but  to  die  : to  die 
4 or  to  live  is  alike  to  me  ; alike  insignificant.’ — And  again  : 
4 Here,  then,  as  I lay  in  that  Centre  of  Indifference  ; cast, 
4 doubtless  by  benignant  upper  Influence,  into  a healing  sleep, 
4 the  heavy  dreams  rolled  gradually  away,  and  I awoke  to  a 
4 new  Heaven  and  a new  Earth.  The  first  preliminary  moral 
4 Act,  Annihilation  of  Self  (Sebst-todtung),  had  been  happily  ac- 
4 complished  ; and  my  minds’  eyes  were  now  unsealed,  and  its 
4 hands  ungyved.’ 

Might  we  not  also  conjecture  that  the  following  passage  re- 


THE  EVERLASTING  YEA . 


151 


fers  to  his  Locality,  during  this  same  4 healing  sleep  ; 9 that 
his  Pilgrim-staff  lies  cast  aside  here  on  4 the  high  table-land  ; ’ 
and  indeed  that  the  repose  is  already  taking  wholesome  effect 
on  him  ? If  it  were  not  that  the  tone,  in  some  parts,  has  more 
of  riancy,  even  of  levity,  than  we  could  have  expected  ! How- 
ever, in  Teufelsdrockh,  there  is  always  the  strangest  Dualism : 
light  dancing,  with  guitar-music,  will  be  going  on  in  the  fore- 
court, while  by  fits  from  within  comes  the  faint  whimpering 
of  wToe  and  wail.  We  transcribe  the  piece  entire  : 

4 Beautiful  it  was  to  sit  there,  as  in  my  skyey  Tent,  musing 

4 and  meditating ; on  the  high  table-land,  in  front  of  the 

5 Mountains ; over  me,  as  roof,  the  azure  Dome,  and  around 
4 me,  for  walls,  four  azure  flowing  curtains, — namely,  the  Four 
4 azure  Winds,  on  whose  bottom-fringes  also  I have  seen  gild- 
4 ing.  And  then  to  fancy  the  fair  Castles,  that  stood  sheltered 
4 in  these  Mountain  hollows ; with  their  green  flower  lawns, 
4 and  white  dames  and  damosels,  lovely  enough  : or  better 
4 still,  the  straw-roofed  Cottages,  wherein  stood  many  a Mother 
4 baking  bread,  with  her  children  round  her  : — all  hidden  and 
4 protectingly  folded  up  in  the  valley-folds ; yet  there  and 
4 alive,  as  sure  as  if  I beheld  them.  Or  to  see,  as  well  as 
4 fancy,  the  nine  Towns  and  Villages,  that  lay  round  my  moun- 
4 tain-seat,  which  in  still  weather,  were  wont  to  speak  to  mo 
4 (by  their  steeple-bells)  with  metal  tongue  ; and,  in  almost  all 
4 weather,  proclaimed  their  vitality  by  repeated  Smoke-clouds ; 
4 whereon,  as  on  a culinary  horologe,  I might  read  the  hour 
4 of  the  day.  For  it  was  the  smoke  of  cookery,  as  kind  house- 
4 wives  at  morning,  midday,  eventide,  were  boiling  their  hus- 
4 bands’  kettles  ; and  ever  a blue  pillar  rose  up  into  the  air, 
4 successively  or  simultaneously,  from  each  of  the  nine,  say- 
4 ing,  as  plainly  as  smoke  could  say  r Such  and  such  a meal  is 
4 getting  ready  here.  Not  uninteresting  ! For  you  have  the 
4 whole  Borough,  with  all  its  love-makings  and  scandal-mon- 
4 geries,  contentions  and  contentments,  as  in  miniature,  and 
4 could  cover  it  all  with  your  hat. — If,  in  my  wide  Wayfarings, 
4 1 had  learned  to  look  into  the  business  of  the  World  in  its 
4 details,  here  perhaps  was  the  place  for  combining  it  into 
4 general  propositions,  and  deducing  inferences  therefrom. 


152 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


i Often  also  could  I see  the  black  Tempest  marching  in  an. 

* ger  through  the  Distance  : around  some  Schreckhorn,  as  yet 
‘ grim-blue,  would  the  eddying  vapour  gather,  and  there  tumul- 
‘ tuously  eddy,  and  flow  down  like  a mad  witch’s  hair ; till, 
c after  a space,  it  vanished,  and,  in  the  clear  sunbeam,  your 
£ Schreckhorn  stood  smiling  grim-white,  for  the  vapour  had 
‘ held  snow.  How  thou  fermentest  and  elaboratest  in  thy 

* great  fermenting-vat  and  laboratory  of  an  Atmosphere,  of  a 
‘ World,  O Nature  ! Or  what  is  nature  ? Ha  ! why  do  I not 
i name  thee  God  ? Art  thou  not  the  “ Living  Garment  of 
c God  ? ” O Heavens,  is  it,  in  very  deed,  He  then  that  ever 
‘ speaks  through  thee  ; that  lives  and  loves  in  thee,  that  lives 
‘ and  loves  in  me  ? 

Fore-shadows,  call  them  rather  fore-splendours,  of  that 
‘ Truth,  and  Beginning  of  Truths,  fell  mysteriously  over  my 
‘ soul.  Sweeter  than  Dayspring  to  the  Shipwrecked  in  Nova 
£ Zembla  ; ah  ! like  the  mother’s  voice  to  her  little  child  that 
‘ strays  bewildered,  weeping,  in  unknown  tumults ; like  soft 
c streamings  of  celestial  music  to  my  too  exasperated  heart, 
c came  that  Evangel.  The  Universe  is  not  dead  and  demon- 
iacal, a charnel-house  with  spectres:  but  godlike,  and  my 

* Father’s ! 

‘ With  other  eyes,  too,  could  I now  look  upon  my  fellow  man  ; 

* with  an  infinite  Love,  an  infinite  Pity.  Poor,  wandering, 
‘ wayward  man  ! Art  thou  not  tried,  and  beaten  with  stripes, 
c even  as  I am  ? Ever,  whether  thou  bear  the  royal  mantle 
‘ or  the  beggar’s  gabardine,  art  thou  not  so  weary,  so  heavy- 
£ laden  ; and  thy  Bed  of  Best  is  but  a grave.  O my  Brother, 
‘ my  Brother,  why  cannot  I shelter  thee  in  my  bosom,  and 
‘ wipe  away  all  tears  from  thy  eyes  ! — Truly,  the  din  of  many- 
‘ voiced  Life,  which  in  this  solitude,  with  the  mind’s  organ,  I 
‘ could  hear,  wras  no  longer  a maddening  discord,  but  a melt- 
‘ ing  one  : like  inarticulate  cries,  and  sobbings  of  a dumb 
( creature,  which  in  the  ear  of  Heaven  are  prayers.  The  poor 
‘ Earth,  with  her  poor  joys,  was  now  my  needy  Mother,  not 
‘ my  cruel  Stepdaine  ; Man,  with  his  so  mad  Wants  and  so 
‘ mean  Endeavours,  had  become  the  dearer  to  me  ; and  even 
‘ for  his  sufferings  and  his  sins,  I now  first  named  him  brother. 


TEE  EVERLASTING  TEA. 


153 


4 Thus  was  I standing  in  the  porch  of  that  44 Sanctuary  of  Sor- 
4 row  by  strange,  steep  ways,  had  I too  been  guided  thither  ; 
4 and  ere  long  its  sacred  gates  would  open,  and  the  “Divine 
4 Depth  of  Sorrow  ” lie  disclosed  to  me.’ 

The  Professor  says,  he  here  first  got  eye  on  the  Knot  that 
had  been  strangling  him,  and  straightway  could  unfasten  it, 
and  was  free.  4 A vain  interminable  controversy/  writes  he, 
4 touching  what  is  at  present  called  Origin  of  Evil,  or  some 
4 such  thing,  arises  in  every  soul,  since  the  beginning  of  the 
4 world  ; and  in  every  soul,  that  would  pass  from  idle  Suffer- 
4 ing  into  actual  Endeavouring,  must  first  be  put  an  end  to. 
4 The  most,  in  our  time,  have  to  go  content  with  a simple,  in- 
4 complete  enough  Suppression  of  this  controversy ; to  a few, 
* some  Solution  of  it  is  indispensable.  In  every  new  era,  too, 
4 such  Solution  comes  out  in  different  terms ; and  ever  the  So- 
4 lution  of  the  last  era  lias  become  obsolete,  and  is  found  un- 
4 serviceable.  For  it  is  man’s  nature  to  change  his  Dialect 
4 from  century  to  century  ; he  cannot  help  it  though  he  would. 
4 The  authentic  Church-Catechism  of  our  present  century  has 
4 not  yet  fallen  into  my  hands  : meanwhile,  for  my  own  private 
4 behoof,  I attempt  to  elucidate  the  matter  so.  Man’s  Unhap- 
4 piness,  as  I construe,  comes  of  his  Greatness ; it  is  because 
4 there  is  an  Infinite  in  him,  which  with  all  his  cunning  he 
4 cannot  quite  bury  under  the  Finite.  Will  the  whole  Finahce 
4 Ministers  and  Upholsterers  and  Confectioners  of  modern 
4 Europe  undertake,  in  joint-stock  company,  to  make  one 
4 Shoeblack  happy  ? They  cannot  accomplish  it,  above  an 
4 hour  or  two  ; for  the  Shoeblack  also  has  a Soul  quite  other 
4 than  his  Stomach  : and  would  require,  if  you  consider  it, 
4 for  his  permanent  satisfaction  and  saturation,  simply  this  al- 
4 lotment,  no  more,  and  no  less : Gods  infinite  Universe  alto - 
4 g ether  to  himself  therein  to  enjoy  infinitely,  and  fill  every 
4 wish  as  fast  as  it  rose.  Oceans  of  Hochheimer,  a Throat 
4 like  tjiat  of  Ophiuckus  : speak  not  of  them  ; to  the  infinite 
4 Shoeblack  they  are  as  nothing.  No  sooner  is  your  ocean 
4 filled,  than  he  grumbles  that  it  might  have  been  of  better 
4 vintage.  Try  him  with  half  of  a Universe,  of  an  Omnipotence, 
4 he  sets  to  quarrelling  with  the  proprietor  of  the  other  half, 


154 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


£ and  declares  himself  the  most  maltreated  of  men. — Always 
‘ there  is  a black  spot  in  our  sunshine  : it  is  even,  as  I said,  the 
■ Shadow  of  Ourselves. 

‘But  the  whim  we  have  of  Happiness  is  somewhat  thus. 
£ By  certain  valuations,  and  averages,  of  our  own  striking,  we 
£ we  come  upon  some  sort  of  average  terrestrial  lot ; this  we 
‘ fancy  belongs  to  us  by  nature,  and  of  indefeasible  right.  It 
£ is  simple  payment  of  our  wages,  of  our  deserts ; requires 
£ neither  thanks  nor  complaint : only  such  overplus  as  there 
£ may  be  do  we  account  Happiness ; any  deficit  again  is  Misery. 
£ Now  consider  that  we  have  the  valuation  of  our  own  deserts 
£ ourselves,  and  what  a fund  of  Self-conceit  there  is  in  each  of 
£ us, — do  you  wonder  that  the  balance  should  so  often  dip  the 
£ wrong  way,  and  many  a Blockhead  cry : See  there,  what  a 
£ payment ; was  ever  worthy  gentleman  so  used  ! — I tell  thee, 
£ Blockhead,  it  all  comes  of  thy  Vanity  ; of  what  thou  fanciest 
£ those  same  deserts  of  thine  to  be.  Fancy  that  thou  deserv- 
£ est  to  be  hanged  (as  is  most  likely),  thou  wilt  feel  it  liappi- 
‘ ness  to  be  only  shot : fancy  that  thou  deservest  to  be  hanged 
‘ in  a hair-halter,  it  will  be  a luxury  to  die  in  hemp. 

£ So  true  it  is,  what  I then  said,  that  the  Fraction  of  Life  can 
£ be  increased  in  value  not  so  much  by  increasing  your  Numera- 
tor as  by  lessening  your  Denominator . Nay,  unless  my  Al- 
£ gebra  deceive  me,  Unity  itself  divided  by  Zero  will  give  In- 
‘ finity.  Make  thy  claim  of  wages  a zero,  then ; thou  hast  the 
‘world  under  thy  feet.  Well  did  the  Wisest  of  our  time 
£ write : ££  It  is  only  with  [Renunciation  (Entsagen)  that  Life, 
* properly  speaking,  can  be  said  to  begin.” 

£ I asked  myself  : What  is  this  that,  ever  since  earliest  years, 
£ thou  hast  been  fretting  and  fuming,  and  lamenting  and  self- 
£ tormenting,  on  account  of  ? Say  it  in  a word  : is  it  not  be- 
£ cause  thou  art  not  happy  ? Because  the  Thou  (sweet  gentle- 
c man)  is  not  sufficiently  honoured,  nourished,  soft-bedded, 
‘ and  lovingly  cared  for  ? Foolish  soul!  "What  Act  of  Leg- 
£ islature  was  there  that  thou  shouldst  be  Happy  ? A little 
£ while  ago  thou  hadst  no  right  to  be  at  all.  What  if  thou 
£ wert  born  and  predestined  not  to  be  Happy,  but  to  be  Un- 
£ happy ! Art  thou  nothing  other  than  a Vulture,  then,  that 


TEE  EVERLASTING  YEA. 


155 


‘ fliest  through  the  Universe  seeking  after  somewhat  to  eat ; 
‘ and  shrieking  dolefully  because  carrion  enough  is  not  given 
c thee  ? Close  thy  Byron  ; open  thy  Goethe / 

(Es  leuchtet  mir  ein,  I see  a glimpse  of  it ! ’ cries  he  else- 
where : ‘ there  is  in  man  a Higher  than  Love  of  Happiness  : 
c he  can  do  without  Happiness,  and  instead  thereof  find  Bless- 
‘ edness  ! Was  it  not  to  preach  forth  this  same  Higher  that 
c sages  and  martyrs,  the  Poet  and  the  Priest,  in  all  times, 
‘ have  spoken  and  suffered  ; bearing  testimony,  through  life 
‘ and  through  death,  of  the  Godlike  that  is  in  Man,  and  how 
‘ in  the  Godlike  only  has  he  Strength  and  Freedom  ? Which 
‘ God-inspired  Doctrine  art  thou  also  honoured  to  be  taught ; 
* O Heavens ! and  broken  with,  manifold  merciful  Afflictions, 
■*  even  fill  thou  become  contrite,  and  learn  it ! O thank  thy 
‘Destiny  for  these;  thankfully  bear  what  yet  remain:  thou 
c hadst  need  of  them  ; the  Self  in  thee  needed  to  be  annihi- 
‘ lated.  By  benignant  fever-paroxysms  is  Life  rooting  out  the 
1 deep-seated  chronic  Disease,  and  triumphs  over  Death.  On 
‘ the  roaring  billows  of  Time,  thou  art  not  engulphed,  but 
‘ borne  aloft  into  the  azure  of  Eternity.  Love  not  Pleasure  ; 
c love  God.  This  is  the  Everlasting  Yea,  wherein  all  contra- 
e diction  is  solved  ; wherein  whoso  walks  and  works,  it  is  well 
‘ with  him/ 

And  again : ‘ Small  is  it  that  thou  canst  trample  the  Earth 
‘ with  its  injuries  under  thy  feet,  as  old  Greek  Zeno  trained 
‘ thee : thou  canst  love  the  Earth  wiiile  it  injures  thee,  and 
c even  because  it  injures  thee  ; for  this  a Greater  than  Zeno 
‘ was  needed,  and  he  too  was  sent.  Knowest  thou  that  “ Wor - 
e ship  of  Sorrow  ? ” The  Temple  thereof,  founded  some  eigh- 
e teen  centuries  ago,  now  lies  in  ruins,  overgrown  with  jungle, 
c the  habitation  of  doleful  creatures : nevertheless,  venture  for- 
‘ ward ; in  a low  crypt,  arched  out  of  falling  fragments,  thou 
c findest  the  Altar  still  there,  and  its  sacred  Lamp  perennially 
c burning. ’ 

Without  pretending  to  comment  on  which  strange  utter- 
ances, the  Editor  will  only  remark,  that  there  lies  beside  them 
much  of  a still  more  questionable  character  ; unsuited  to  the 
general  apprehension  ; nay  wherein  he  himself  does  not  see 


156 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


his  way.  Nebulous  disquisitions  on  Religion,  yet  not  without 
bursts  of  splendour ; on  the  4 perennial  continuance  of  In- 
spiration ; 5 on  Prophecy;  that  there  are  ‘ true  Priests,  as 
well  as  Baal-Priests,  in  our  own  day  : 5 with  more  of  the  like 
sort.  We  select  some  fractions  by  way  of  finish  to  this  far- 
rago. 

‘ Cease,  my  much-respected  Herr  von  Voltaire/  thus  apos- 
trophises the  Professor : ‘ shut  thy  sweet  voice  ; for  the 
‘ task  appointed  thee  seems  finished.  Sufficiently  hast  thou 
c demonstrated  this  proposition,  considerable  or  otherwise : 

* That  the  Mytlius  of  the  Christian  Religion  looks  not  in  the 

‘ eighteenth  century  as  it  did  in  the  eighth.  Alas,  were  thy 
‘ six-and-thirty  quartos,  and  the  six-and-thirty  thousand  other 
‘ quartos  and  folios,  and  flying  sheets  or  reams,  printed  be- 
‘ fore  and  since  on  the  same  subject,  all  needed  to  convince 
‘ us  of  so  little  ! But  what  next  ? Wilt  thou  help  us  to  em- 
‘ body  the  divine  Spirit  of  that  Religion  in  a new  My  thus,  in 
‘ a new  vehicle  and  vesture,  that  our  Souls,  otherwise  too 
4 like  perishing,  may  live  ? What ! thou  hast  no  faculty  in 
4 that  kind  ? Only  a torch  for  burning,  no  hammer  for  build- 
4 ing  ? Take  our  thanks,  then,  and thyself  away. 

4 Meanwhile  what  are  antiquated  Mythuses  to  me  ? Or  is 
4 the  God  present,  felt  in  my  own  heart,  a thing  which  Herr 
4 von  Voltaire  will  dispute  out  of  me  ; or  dispute  into  me  ? 
4 To  the  “ Worship  of  Sorrow ” ascribe  what  origin  and  genesis 
4 thou  pleasest,  has  not  that  Worship  originated,  and  been 
4 generated  ; is  it  not  here?  Feel  it  in  thy  heart,  and  then 
‘ say  whether  it  is  of  God  ! This  is  Belief ; all  else  is  Opin- 
4 ion, — for  which  latter  whoso  will  let  him  worry  and  be  wor- 
< ried.’ 

c Neither/  observes  he  elsewhere,  4 shall  ye  tear  out  one  an- 

* others  eyes,  struggling  over  “ Plenary  Inspiration,”  and  such 

* like  : try  rather  to  get  a little  even  Partial  Inspiration,  each 
c of  you  for  himself.  One  Bible  I know,  of  whose  Plenary 

* Inspiration  doubt  is  not  so  much  as  possible  ; nay  with  my 
4 own  eyes  I saw  the  God’s-Hand  writing  it : thereof  all  other 

* Bibles  are  but  Leaves,— say,  in  Picture-Writing  to  assist  the 
f weaker  faculty/ 


TUE  EVERLASTING  TEA, , 


157 


Or  to  give  the  wearied  reader  relief,  and,  bring  it  to  an  end, 
let  him  take  the  following  perhaps  more  intelligible  passage  : 

£ To  me,  in  this  our  Life/  says  the  Professor,  £ which  is  an 
£ internecine  warfare  with  the  Time-spirit,  other  warfare  seems 
£ questionable.  Hast  thou  in  any  way  a Contention  with  thy 
£ brother,  I advise  thee,  think  well  Tvhat  the  meaning  thereof  is. 

£ If  thou  gauge  it  to  the  bottom,  it  is  simply  this  : “ Fellow, 

‘ see  ? thou  art  taking  more  than  thy  share  of  Happiness  in  the 
£ wTorld,  something  from  my  share : which,  by  the  Heavens, 

£ thou  shalt  not ; nay  I will  fight  thee  rather.” — Alas  ! and  the 
£ whole  lot  to  be  divided  in  such  a beggarly  matter,  truly  a 
£ “ feast  of  shells,”  for  the  substance  has  been  spilled  out : 
£ not  enough  to  quench  one  Appetite  ; and  the  collective  hu- 
c man  species  clutching  at  them  ! — Can  we  not,  in  all  such 
£ cases,  rather  say  : ££  Take  it,  thou  too-ravenous  individual  ; 
£ take  that  pitiful  additional  fraction  of  a share,  which  I reek- 
£ oned  mine,  but  which  thou  so  wantest : take  it  with  a 
£ blessing  : would  to  Heaven  I had  enough  for  thee  ! ” — If 
£ Fichte’s  Wissenscha/tslehre  be,  ££  to  a certain  extent,  Applied 
£ Christianity,”  surely  to  a still  greater  extent,  so  is  this.  We 
£ have  here  not  a Whole  Duty  of  Man,  yet  a Half  Duty,  namely 
£ the  Passive  half : could  we  but  do  it,  as  we  can  demonstrate 
‘ it! 

£ But  indeed  Conviction,  were  it  never  so  excellent,  is  worth- 
£ less  till  it  convert  itself  into  Conduct.  Nay  properly  Convic- 
c tion  is  not  possible  till  then  ; inasmuch  as  all  Speculation 
£ is  by  nature  endless,  formless,  a vortex  amid  vortices  : only 
£ by  a felt  indubitable  certainty  of  Experience  does  it  find 
£ any  centre  to  revolve  round,  and  so  fashion  itself  into  a sys- 
‘ tern.  Most  true  is  it,  as  a wise  man  teaches  us,  that “ Doubt 
£ of  any  sort  cannot  be  removed  except  by  Action.”  On  which 
£ ground  too  let  him  who  gropes  painfully  in  darkness  or  un- 
c certain  light,  and  prays  vehemently  that  the  dawn  may 

* ripen  into  day,  lay  this  other  precept  well  to  heart,  which  to 
£ me  was  of  invaluable  service : “Do  the  Duty  which  lies  near - 
£ est  thee ,”  which  thou  knowest  to  be  a Duty  ! Thy  second 

* Duty  will  already  have  become  clearer. 

£ May  we  not  say,  however,  that  the  hour  of  Spiritual  En- 


158 


SABTOB  BESABTUS. 


* franchisement  is  even  this  : When  your  Meal  World,  wherein 
c the  whole  man  has  been  dimly  struggling  and  inexpressibly 
‘ languishing  to  work,  becomes  revealed  and  thrown  open  ; 
c and  you  discover,  with  amazement  enough,  like  the  Lotha- 

* rio  in  Wilhelm  Meister , that  your  “America  is  here  or  no- 
c where  ? ” The  Situation  that  has  not  its  Duty,  its  Ideal, 
‘was  never' yet  occupied  by  man.  Yes  here,  in  this  poor, 
‘ miserable,  hampered,  despicable  Actual,  wherein  thou  even 

* now  standest,  here  or  nowhere  is  thy  Ideal : work  it  out 
c therefrom  ; and  working,  believe,  live,  be  free.  Fool ! the 

* Ideal  is  in  thyself,  the  Impediment  too  is  in  thyself  : thy 
‘ Condition  is  but  the  stuff  thou  art  to  shape  that  same  Ideal 

* out  of  ; what  matters  whether  such  stuff  be  of  this  sort  or 
‘ that,  so  the  Form  thou  give  it  be  heroic,  be  poetic  ? O thou 

* that  pinest  in  the  imprisonment  of  the  Actual,  and  criest 
‘ bitterly  to  the  gods  for  a kingdom  wherein  to  rule  and 
‘ create,  know  this  of  a truth : the  thing  thou  seekest  is  al- 
‘ ready  with  thee,  “ here  or  nowhere/5  couldst  thou  only  see  ! 

‘ But  it  is  with  man’s  Soul  as  it  was  with  Nature  : the  be- 
‘ ginning  of  Creation  is — Light.  Till  the  eye  have  vision,  the 
‘ whole  members  are  in  bonds.  Divine  moment,  wdien  over 

* the  tempest-tost  Soul,  as  once  over  the  wild-weltering  Chaos, 
‘ it  is  spoken  : Let  there  be  light?  Ever  to  the  greatest  that 
‘ has  felt  such  moment,  is  it  not  miraculous  and  God-announc- 
‘ ing ; even  as,  under  simpler  figures,  to  the  simplest  and 
‘ least.  The  mad  primeval  Discord  is  hushed  ; the  rudely- 
‘ jumbled  conflicting  elements  bind  themselves  into  separate 
‘ Firmaments  : deep  silent  rock-foundations  are  built  beneath  ; 
‘ and  the  skyey  vault  with  its  everlasting  Luminaries  above  : 
‘ instead  of  a dark  wasteful  Chaos,  we  have  a blooming,  fer- 
‘ tile,  Heaven-encompassed  World. 

‘ I too  could  now  say  to  myself  : Be  no  longer  a Chaos,  but 
‘ a World,  or  even  Worldkin.  Produce  ! Produce  ! Were  it 
‘ but  the  pitifulest  infinitesimal  fraction  of  a Product,  produce 
‘ it  in  God’s  name  ! ’Tis  the  utmost  thou  hast  in  thee  ; out 
‘ with  it  then.  Up,  up ! Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do, 
‘ do  it  with  thy  whole  might.  Work  while  it  is  called  To-day, 
‘ for  the  Night  cometh  wherein  no  man  can  work/ 


PAUSE. 


159 


CHAPTER  X. 

PAUSE. 

Thus  have  we,  as  closely  and  perhaps  satisfactorily  as,  in 
such  circumstances,  might  be,  followed  Teufelsclrockh  through 
the  various  successive  states  and  stages  of  Growth,  Entangle- 
ment, Unbelief,  and  almost  Reprobation,  into  a certain  clear- 
er state  of  what  he  himself  seems  to  consider  as  Conversion. 
4 Blame  not  the  word/  says  he ; 4 rejoice  rather  that  such  a 
4 word,  signifying  such  a thing,  has  come  to  light  in  our 
4 Modern  Era,  though  hidden  from  the  wisest  Ancients.  The 
4 Old  World  knew  nothing  of  Conversion  : instead  of  an  Ecce 
4 Homo , they  had  only  some  Choice  of  Hercules.  It  was  a 
4 new-attained  progress  in  the  Moral  Development  of  Man  : 
4 hereby  has  the  Highest  come  home  to  the  bosoms  of  the 
4 most  Limited  ; what  to  Plato  was  but  a hallucination,  and 
4 to  Socrates  a chimera,  is  now  clear  and  certain  to  your  Zin- 
4 zendorfs,  your  Wesleys,  and  the  poorest  of  their  Pietists  and 
4 Methodists.’ 

It  is  here  then  that  the  spiritual  majority  of  Teufelsdroekh 
commences  : we  are  henceforth  to  see  him  4 work  in  well- 
doing,’ with  the  spirit  and  clear  aims  of  a Man.  He  has  dis- 
covered that  the  Ideal  Workshop  he  so  panted  for,  is  even  this 
same  Actual  ill -furnished  Workshop  he  has  so  long  been 
stumbling  in.  He  can  say  to  himself  : 4 Tools  ? Thou  hast 
4 no  Tools  ? Why,  there  is  not  a Man,  or  a Thing,  now  alive 
4 but  has  tools.  The  basest  of  created  animalcules,  the  Spider 
4 itself  has  a spinning-jenny,  and  warping-mill,  and  power- 
4 loom,  within  its  head  ; the  stupidest  of  Oysters  has  a Papin’s- 
4 Digester,  with  stone-and-lime  house  to  hold  it  in  : every 
4 being  that  can  live  can  do  something  ; this  let  him  do. 
4 Tools  ? Hast  thou  not  a Brain,  furnished,  furnishable  with 
4 some  glimmerings  of  Light ; and  three  fingers  to  hold  a 
4 Pen  withal  ? Never  since  Aaron’s  Rod  went  out  of  practice, 
4 or  even  before  it,  was  there  such  a wonder-working  Tool : 
4 greater  than  all  recorded  miracles  have  been  performed  by 


160 


SABTOB  BESABTU8. 


‘ Pens..  For  strangely  in  this  so  solid-seeming  World,  which 
‘ nevertheless  is  in  continual  restless  flux,  it  is  appointed  that 
c Sound,  to  appearance  the  most  fleeting,  should  be  the  most 
‘ continuing  of  all  things.  The  Word  is  well  said  to  be  om- 
‘ nipotent  in  this  world  ; man,  thereby  divine,  can  create  as 
‘ by  a Fiat.  Awake,  arise  ! Speak  forth  what  is  in  thee  ; 
‘ what  God  has  given  thee,  what  the  Devil  shall  not  take 
‘ away.  Higher  task  than  that  of  Priesthood  was  allotted  to 
‘ no  man  : wert  thou  but  the  meanest  in  that  sacred  Hier- 

* archy,  is  it  not  honour  enough  therein  to  spend  and  be 

* spent  ? 

c By  this  Art,  vrliich  whoso  wrill  may  sacrilegiously  degrade 
‘ into  a handicraft/ adds  Teufelsdrockh,  ‘ have  I thenceforth 
‘ abidden.  Writings  of  mine,  not  indeed  known  as  mine  (for 
‘ what  am  If),  have  fallen,  perhaps  not  altogether  void,  into 
‘ the  mighty  seed-field  of  Opinion  ; fruits  of  my  unseen  sow- 
‘ ing  gratifyingly  meet  me  here  and  there.  I thank  the 
‘ Heavens  that  I have  now  found  my  Calling  ; wherein,  w7ith 
c or  without  perceptible  result,  I am  minded  diligently  to 
‘ persevere. 

* Nay  how  knowest  thou/  cries  he,  ‘ but  this  and  the  other 
c pregnant  Device,  now  grown  to  be  a world-renowned  far- 
‘ working  Institution  ; like  a grain  of  right  mustard-seed  once 
‘ cast  into  the  right  soil,  and  now  stretching  out  strong 
c boughs  to  the  four  winds,  for  the  birds  of  the  air  to  lodge 
‘ in, — may  have  been  properly  my  doing  ? Some  one’s  doing 
‘ it  without  doubt  was ; from  some  Idea,  in  some  single 
c Head,  it  did  first  of  all  take  beginning  : why  not  from  some 
c Idea  in  mine  ? ’ Does  Teufelsdrockh  here  glance  at  that 
c Society  for  the  Conservation  of  Property  ( Eigenthums-con « 
‘ servirende  Geselhchaft ),’  of  which  so  many  ambiguous  notices 
glide  spectre-like  through  these  inexpressible  Paperbags? 
‘ An  Institution/  hints  he,  ‘not  unsuitable  to  the  wants  of  the 
‘ time  ; as  indeed  such  sudden  extension  proves  ; for  already 
‘ can  the  Society  number,  among  its  office-bearers  or  corre- 
‘ sponding  members,  the  highest  Names,  if  not  the  highest 
‘ Persons,  in  Germany,  England,  France  ; and  contributions, 
‘ both  of  money  and  of  meditation,  pour  in  from  all  quarters ; 


PAUSE. 


161 


c to,  if  possible,  enlist  the  remaining  Integrity  of  the  world, 
c and,  defensively  and  with  forethought,  marshal  it  round  this 
c Palladium.5  Does  Teufelsdrockh  mean,  then,  to  give  him- 
self out  as  the  originator  of  that  so  notable  Eigenthums- 
conservirende  (£  Owndom-conserving 5 ) Gesdllschaft ; and,  if  so, 
what,  in  the  Devil’s  name,  is  it  ? He  again  hints  : £ At  a time 
‘ when  the  divine  Commandment,  Thou  shalt  not  steal,  where- 
1 in  truly,  if  well  understood,  is  comprised  the  whole  Hebrew 
c Decalogue,  with  Solon’s  and  Lycurgus’s  Constitutions,  Jus- 
e tinian’s  Pandects,  the  Code  Napoleon,  and  all  Codes,  Cate- 
‘ chisrns,  Divinities,  Moralities  whatsoever,  that  man  has  hith- 
' erto  devised  (and  enforced  with  Altar-fire  and  Gallows-ropes) 
£ for  his  social  guidance  : at  a time,  I say,  when  this  divine 
£ Commandment  has  all  but  faded  away  from  the  general  re- 
‘ membrance  ; and,  with  little  disguise,  a new  opposite  Com- 
£ mandment,  Thou  shalt  steal,  is  everywhere  promulgated, — it 
£ perhaps  behoved  in  this  universal  dotage  and  deliration  the 
£ sound  portion  of  mankind  to  bestir  themselves  and  rally. 
‘ When  the  widest  and  wildest  violations  of  that  divine  right 
£ of  Property,  the  only  divine  right  now  extant  or  conceiva- 
* ble,  are  sanctioned  and  recommended  by  a vicious  Press, 
£ and  the  world  has  lived  to  hear  it  asserted  that  we  have  no 
£ Property  in  our  very  Bodies  but  only  an  accidental  Possession, 
£ and  Life-rent,  what  is  the  issue  to  be  looked  for?  Hangmen 
£ and  Catchpoles  may,  by  their  noose-gins  and  baited  fall- 
£ traps,  keep  down  the  smaller  sort  of  vermin  : but  what,  ex- 
£ cept  perhaps  some  such  Universal  Association,  can  protect 
6 us  against  whole  meat-devouring  and  man-devouring  hosts 
c of  Boa-constrictors?  If,  therefore,  the  more  sequestered 
£ Thinker  have  wondered,  in  his  privacy,  from  what  hand  that 
£ perhaps  not  ill- written  Program  in  the  Public  Journals,  with 
£ its  high  Prize- Questions  and  so  liberal  Prizes,  could  have 
‘ proceeded, — let  him  now  cease  such  wonder  ; and,  with  un- 
£ divided  faculty,  betake  himself  to  the  Concurrenz  (Compe- 
£ tition).’ 

We  ask  : Has  this  same  1 perhaps  not  ill- written  Program ,* 
or  any  other  authentic  Transaction  of  that  Property-conserv- 
ing Society,  fallen  under  the  eye  of  the  British  Reader,  in  any 
11 


162 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


Journal,  foreign  or  domestic?  If  so,  what  are  those  Prize - 
Questions  ; what  are  the  terms  of  Competition,  and  when  and 
where  ? No  printed  Newspaper  leaf,  no  farther  light  of  any 
sort,  to  be  met  with  in  these  Paperbags ! Or  is  the  whole 
business  one  other  of  those  whimsicalities,  and  perverse  inex- 
plicabilities, whereby  Herr  Teufelsdrockh,  meaning  much  or 
nothing,  is  pleased  so  often  to  play  fast  and  loose  with  us  ? 

Here,  indeed,  at  length,  must  the  Editor  give  utterance  to 
a painful  suspicion  which,  through  late  Chapters,  has  begun 
to  haunt  him  ; paralysing  any  little  enthusiasm,  that  might 
still  have  rendered  his  thorny  Biographical  task  a labour  of 
love.  It  is  a suspicion  grounded  perhaps  on  trifles,  yet  con- 
firmed almost  into  certainty  by  the  more  and  more  discernible 
humoristico-satirical  tendency  of  Teufelsdrockh,  in  whom  un- 
derground humours,  and  intricate  sardonic  rogueries,  wheel 
within  wheel,  defy  all  reckoning : a suspicion  in  one  wrord, 
that  these  Autobiographical  Documents  are  partly  a mystifica- 
tion ! What  if  many  a so-called  Fact  were  little  better  than  a 
Fiction  ; if  here  we  had  no  direct  Camera-obscura  Picture  of 
the  Professor’s  History  ; but  only  some  more  or  less  fantastic 
Adumbration,  symbolically,  perhaps  significantly  enough, 
shadowing  forth  the  same  ! Our  theory  begins  to  be  that,  in 
receiving  as  literally  authentic  what  wras  but  hieroglyphically 
so,  Hofrath  Heuschrecke,  whom  in  that  case  we  scruple  not  to 
name  Hofrath  Nose-of-Wax,  wras  made  a fool  of,  and  set  adrift 
to  make  fools  of  others.  Could  it  be  expected,  indeed,  that  a 
man  so  known  for  impenetrable  reticence  as  Teufelsdrockh, 
would  all  at  once  frankly  unlock  his  private  citadel  to  an 
English  Editor  and  a German  Hofrath  ; and  not  rather  decep- 
tively mlock  both  Editor  and  Hofrath,  in  the  labyrinthic  tor- 
tuosities and  covered  ways  of  said  citadel  (having  enticed  them 
thither),  to  see,  in  his  half-devilish  way,  how  the  fools  would 
look? 

Of  one  fool,  however,  the  Herr  Professor  wTill  perhaps  find 
himself  short.  On  a small  slip  formerly  thrown  aside  as 
blank,  the  ink  being  all  but  invisible,  we  lately  notice,  and 
with  effort  decipher,  the  following  : 4 What  are  your  historical 


PAUSE : 


163 


‘Facts;  still  more  your  biographical?  Wilt  thou  know  a 
‘Man,  above  all,  a Mankind,  by  stringing  together  beadrolls 
‘ of  what  thou  namest  Facts  ? The  man  is  the  spirit  he 
‘ worked  in  ; not  what  he  did,  but  what  he  became.  Facts 
‘ are  engraved  Hierograms,  for  which  the  fewest  have  the  key. 
‘And  then  how  your  Blockhead  ( Dummkopf ) studies  not  their 
‘ Meaning  ; but  simply  whether  they  are  well  or  ill  cut,  what 
‘he  calls  Moral  or  Immoral!  Still  worse  is  it  with  your 
‘ Bungler  ( Pfuscher ) : such  I have  seen  reading  some  Rous- 
‘ seau,  with  pretences  of  interpretation  ; and  mistaking  the  ill- 
‘cut  Serpent-of-Eternity  for  a common  poisonous  Reptile/ 
Was  the  Professor  apprehensive  lest  an  Editor,  selected  as  the 
present  boasts  himself,  might  mistake  the  Teufelsdrockli  Ser- 
pent-of-Eternity  in  like  manner  ? For  which  reason  it  was 
to  be  altered,  not  without  underhand  satire,  into  a plainer 
Symbol?  Or  is  this  merely  one  of  his  half-sophisms,  half- 
truisms, which  if  he  can  but  set  on  the  back  of  a Figure,  he 
cares  not  whither  it  gallop?  We  say  not  with  certainty  ; and 
indeed,  so  strange  is  the  Professor,  can  never  say.  If  our 
Suspicion  be  wholly  unfounded  let  his  own  questionable  ways, 
not  our  necessary  circumspectness,  bear  the  blame. 

But  be  this  as  it  will,  the  somewhat  exasperated  and  indeed 
exhausted  Editor  determines  here  to  shut  these  Paperbags, 
for  the  present.  Let  it  suffice  that  we  know  of  Teufelsdrockli, 
so  far,  if  £ not  wThat  he  did,  yet  what  he  became  : 5 the  rather, 
as  his  character  has  now  taken  its  ultimate  bent,  and  no  new 
revolution  of  importance  is  to  be  looked  for.  The  imprisoned 
Chrysalis  is  now  a winged  Psyche  : and  such,  wheresoever  be 
its  flight,  it  will  continue.  To  trace  by  what  complex  gyra- 
tions (flights  or  involuntary  waftings)  through  the  mere  ex- 
ternal Life-element,  Teufelsdrockh  reaches  his  University 
Professorship,  and  the  Psyche  clothes  himself  in  civic  Titles, 
without  altering  her  now  fixed  nature, — would  be  compara- 
tively an  unproductive  task,  were  we  even  unsuspicious  of  its 
being,  for  us  at  least,  a false  and  impossible  one.  His  out- 
ward Biography,  therefore,  which,  at  the  Blumine  Lover’s- 
Leap,  we  saw  churned  utterly  into  spray-vapour,  may  hover 
in  that  condition,  for  aught  that  concerns  us  here.  Enough 


1G4 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


that,  by  survey  of  certain  ‘ pools  and  plashes/  we  have  ascer- 
tained its  general  direction  : do  we  not  already  know  that,  by 
one  way  and  other,  it  has  long  since  rained  down  again  into  a 
stream  ; and  even  now,  at  Weissnichtwo,  flows  deep  and  still, 
fraught  with  the  Philosophy  of  Clothes , and  visible  to  whoso 
will  cast  eye  thereon  ? Over  much  invaluable  matter  that 
lies  scattered,  like  jewels  among  quarry-rubbish,  in  those 
Paper  catacombs,  we  may  have  occasion  to  glance  back,  and, 
somewhat  will  demand  insertion  at  the  right  place  : mean- 
while, be  our  tiresome  diggings  therein  suspended. 

If  now,  before  reopening  the  great  Clothes- Volume,  we  ask 
what  our  degree  of  progress,  during  these  Ten  Chapters,  has 
been,  towards  right  understanding  of  the  Clothes-Philosophy, 
let  not  our  discouragement  become  total.  To  speak  in  that 
old  figure  of  £he  Hell-gate  Bridge  over  Chaos,  a few  flying 
pontoons  have  perhaps  been  added,  though  as  yet  they  drift 
straggling  on  the  Flood  ; how  far  they  will  reach,  when  once 
the  chains  are  straightened  and  fastened,  can,  at  present,  only 
be  matter  of  conjecture. 

So  much  we  already  calculate  : Through  many  a little  loop- 
hole, we  have  had  glimpses  into  the  internal  world  of  Teufels- 
drockh ; his  strange  mystic,  almost  magic  Diagram  of  the 
Universe,  and  how  it  was  gradually  drawn,  is  not  henceforth 
altogether  dark  to  us.  Those  mysterious  ideas  on  Time, 
which  merit  consideration,  and  are  not  wholly  unintelligible 
with  such,  may  by  and  by  prove  significant.  Still  more  may 
his  somewhat  peculiar  view  of  Nature  ; the  decisive  Oneness 
he  ascribes  to  Nature.  How  all  Nature  and  Life  are  but  one 
Garment,  a £ Living  Garment/  woven  and  ever  a- weaving  in 
the  ‘ Loom  of  Time  ; 5 is  not  here,  indeed,  the  outline  of  a 
whole  Clothes-Philosophy  ; at  least  the  arena  it  is  to  work  in  ? 
Bemark  too  that  the  Character  of  the  man,  nowise  without 
meaning  in  such  a matter,  becomes  less  enigmatic  : amid  so 
much  tumultuous  obscurity  almost  like  diluted  madness,  do 
not  a certain  indomitable  Defiance  and  yet  a boundless  Kev- 
erence  seem  to  loom  forth,  as  the  two  mountain-summits,  on 
whose  rock-strata  all  the  rest  were  based  and  built  ? 

Nay,  further,  may  we  not  say  that  Teufelsdrockli’s  Biogra- 


PAUSE, : 


165 


phy,  allowing  it  even,  as  suspected,  only  a hieroglyphical 
truth,  exhibits  a man  as  it  were  preappointed  for  Clothes- 
Philosophy  ? To  look  through  the  Shows  of  things  into 
Things  themselves  he  is  led  and  compelled.  The  ‘ Passivity  * 
given  him  by  birth  is  fostered  by  all  turns  of  his  fortune. 
Everywhere  cast  out,  like  oil  out  of  water,  from  mingling  in 
any  Employment,  in  any  public  Communion,  he  has  no  por- 
tion but  Solitude  and  a life  of  Meditation.  The  whole  energy 
of  his  existence  is  directed,  through  long  years,  on  one  task ; 
that  of  enduring  pain,  if  he  cannot  cure  it.  Thus  everywhere 
do  the  Shows  of  things  oppress  him,  withstand  him,  threaten 
him  with  fearfulest  destruction  ; only  by  victoriously  penetrat- 
ing into  Things  themselves,  can  he  find  peace  and  a strong- 
hold. But  is  not  this  same  looking  through  the  Shows,  or 
Vestures,  into  the  Things,  even  the  first  preliminary  to  a 
Philosophy  of  Clothes  ? Do  we  not,  in  all  this,  discern  some 
beckonings  towards  the  true  higher  purport  of  such  a Philos- 
ophy ; and  what  shape  it  must  assume  with  such  a man,  in 
such  an  era  ? 

Perhaps  in  entering  on  Book  Third,  the  courteous  Reader 
is  not  utterly  without  guess  whither  he  is  bound  : nor,  let  us 
hope,  for  all  the  fantastic  Dream-Grottoes  through  which,  as 
is  our  lot  with  Teufelsdrockh,  he  must  wander,  will  there  be 
wanting  between  whiles  some  twinkling  of  a steady  Polar 
Star. 


BOOK  III 


CHAPTER  I. 

INCIDENT  IN  MODERN  HISTORY. 

As  a wonder-loving  and  wonder-seeking  man,  Teufelsdrockh, 
from  an  early  part  of  his  Cloth es-Volume,  has  more  and  more 
exhibited  himself.  Striking  it  was,  amid  all  his  perverse 
cloudiness,  with  what  force  of  vision  and  of  heart  he  pierced 
into  the  mystery  of  the  World ; recognising  in  the  highest 
sensible  phenomena,  so  far  as  Sense  went,  only  fresh  or  faded 
Raiment ; yet  ever,  under  this,  a celestial  Essence  thereby 
rendered  visible  ; and  while,  on  the  one  hand,  he  trod  the 
old  rags  of  Matter,  with  their  tinsels,  into  the  mire,  he  on  the 
other  everywhere  exalted  Spirit  above  all  earthly  principalities 
and  powers,  and  worshipped  it,  though  under  the  meanest 
shapes,  with  a true  Platonic  Mysticism.  What  the  man  ul- 
timately purposed  by  thus  casting  his  Greek-fire  into  the 
general  Wardrobe  of  the  Universe  ; what  such,  more  or  less 
complete,  rending  and  burning  of  Garments  throughout  the 
whole  compass  of  Civilized  Life  and  Speculation,  should  lead 
to  : the  rather  as  he  was  no  Adamite,  in  any  sense,  and  could 
not,  like  Rousseau,  recommend  either  bodily  or  intellectual 
Nudity,  and  a return  to  the  savage  state  : all  this  our 
readers  are  now  bent  to  discover ; this  is,  in  fact,  properly 
the  gist  and  purport  of  Professor  Teufelsdrockh’s  Philosophy 
of  Clothes. 

Be  it  remembered,  however,  that  such  purport  is  here  not 
so  much  evolved  as  detected  to  lie  ready  for  evolving.  We 
are  to  guide  our  British  Friends  into  the  new  Gold-country, 
and  shew  them  the  mines  ; nowise  to  dig  out  and  exhaust  its 
wealth,  which  indeed  remains  for  all  time  inexhaustible. 


168 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


Once  there,  let  each  dig  for  his  own  behoof,  and  enrich  him- 
self. 

Neither,  in  so  capricious  inexpressible  a Work  as  this  of 
the  Professor’s,  can  our  course  now  more  than  formerly  be 
straight  forward,  step  by  step,  but  at  best  leap  by  leap.  Sig- 
nificant Indications  stand  out  here  and  there  ; which  for  the 
critical  eye,  that  looks  both  widely  and  narrowly,  shape  them- 
selves into  some  ground-scheme  of  a Whole  : to  select  these 
with  judgment,  so  that  a leap  from  one  to  the  other  be  pos- 
sible, and  (in  our  old  figure)  by  chaining  them  together,  a 
passable  Bridge  be  effected  : this,  as  heretofore,  continues 
our  only  method.  Among  such  light-spots,  the  following, 
floating  in  much  wild  matter  about  Perfectibility , has  seemed 
worth  clutching  at : 

4 Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  incident  in  Modern  History,’ 
says  Teufelsdrockh,  4 is  not  the  Diet  of  Worms,  still  less  the 
* Battle  of  Austerlitz,  Waterloo,  Peterloo,  or  any  other  Battle  ; 
4 but  an  incident  passed  carelessly  over  by  most  Historians, 
4 and  treated  with  some  degree  of  ridicule  by  others  : namely, 
4 George  Fox’s  making  to  himself  a suit  of  Leather.  This 
4 man,  the  first  of  the  Quakers,  and  by  trade  a Shoemaker, 
4 was  one  of  those,  to  whom,  under  ruder  or  purer  form,  the 
4 Divine  Idea  of  the  Universe  is  pleased  to  manifest  itself  ; 
4 and,  across  all  the  hulls  of  Ignorance  and  earthly  Degrada- 
4 tion,  shine  through,  in  unspeakable  Awfulness,  unspeakable 
4 Beauty,  on  their  souls  ; who  therefore  are  rightly  accounted 
4 Prophets,  God-possessed  ; or  even  Gods,  as  in  some  periods 
4 it  has  chanced.  Sitting  in  his  stall ; working  on  tanned 
4 hides,  amid  pincers,  paste-horns,  rosin,  swine-bristles,  and  a 
4 nameless  flood  of  rubbish,  this  youth  had  nevertheless  a 
4 Living  Spirit  belonging  to  him  ; also  an  antique  Inspired 
4 Volume,  through  which,  as  through  a window,  it  could  look 
4 upwards,  and  discern  its  celestial  Home.  The  task  of  a 
4 daily  pair  of  shoes,  coupled  even  with  some  prospect  of  vic- 
4 tuals,  and  an  honourable  Mastership  in  Cordwainery,  and  per- 
haps the  post  of  Thirdborough  in  his  Hundred,  as  the  crown 
4 of  long  faithful  sewing, — was  nowise  satisfaction  enough 
4 to  such  a mind  : but  ever  amid  the  boring  and  hammering 


INCIDENT  IN  MODERN  HISTORY. 


169 


‘ came  tones  from  that  far  country,  came  Splendours  and 
‘ Terrors  ; for  this  poor  Cordwainer,  as  we  said,  was  a Man  ; 

4 and  the  Temple  of  Immensity,  wherein  as  Man  he  had  been 
‘ sent  to  minister,  was  full  of  holy  mystery  to  him. 

4 The  Clergy  of  the  neighbourhood,  the  ordained  Watchers 
4 and  Interpreters  of  that  same  holy  mystery,  listened  with 
4 unaffected  tedium  to  his  consultations,  and  advised  him,  as 
4 the  solution  of  such  doubts,  to  “drink  beer,  and  dance  with 
4 the  girls.”  Blind  leaders  of  the  blind ! For  what  end  were 
4 their  tithes  levied  and  eaten  ; for  what  were  their  shovel-hats 
c scooped  out,  and  their  surplices  and  cassock-aprons  girt  on ; 
4 and  such  a church-repairing,  and  chaffering,  and  organing, 
4 and  other  racketing,  held  over  that  spot  of  God’s  Earth, — if 
4 Man  were  but  a Patent  Digester,  and  the  Belly  with  its  ad- 
4 juncts  the  grand  Beality  ? Fox  turned  from  them,  with 
4 tears  and  a sacred  scorn,  back  to  his  Leather-parings  and 
4 Ills  Bible.  Mountains  of  encumbrance,  higher  than  iEtna, 
4 had  been  heaped  over  that  Spirit : but  it  was  a Spirit,  and 
4 would  not  lie  buried  there.  Through  long  days  and  nights 
4 of  silent  agony,  it  struggled  and  wrestled,  with  a man’s 
4 force,  to  be  free : how  its  prison-mountains  heaved  and 
4 swayed  tumultuously,  as  the  giant  spirit  shook  them  to  this 
4 hand  and  that,  and  emerged  into  the  light  of  Heaven  ! That 
4 Leicester  shoe-shop,  had  men  known  it,  was  a holier  place 
4 than  any  Vatican  or  Loretto-shrine. — 44  So  bandaged,  and 
f hampered,  and  hemmed  in,”  groaned  he,  44  with  thousand 
4 requisitions,  obligations,  straps,  tatters,  and  tagrags,  I can 
4 neither  see  nor  move  : not  my  own  am  I,  but  the  World’s  ; 
4 and  Time  flies  fast,  and  Heaven  is  high,  and  Hell  is  deep : 
4 Man  ! bethink  thee,  if  thou  hast  power  of  Thought ! Why 
4 not ; what  binds  me  here  ? Want,  want ! — Ha,  of  what  ? 
4 Will  all  the  shoe-wages  under  the  Moon  ferry  me  across  into 
4 that  far  Land  of  Light  ? Only  Meditation  can,  and  devout 
4 Prayer  to  God.  I will  to  the  woods  : the  hollow  of  a tree 
4 will  lodge  me,  wild  berries  feed  me  ; and  for  Clothes,  cannot 
4 I stitch  myself  one  perennial  suit  of  Leather  ? ” 

4 Historical  Oil-painting,’  continues  Teufelsdrockh,  4 is  one 
4 of  the  Arts  I never  practised  ; therefore  shall  I not  decide 


170 


8ART0R  RESARTUS 


4 whether  this  subject  were  easy  of  execution  on  the  canvas. 

4 Yet  often  has  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  such  first  outflashing  of 
4 man’s  Freewill,  to  lighten,  more  and  more  into  Day,  the 
4 Chaotic  Night  that  threatened  to  engulph  him  in  its  hin- 
4 drances  and  its  horrors,  were  properly  the  only  grandeur 
4 there  is  in  History.  Let  some  living  Angelo  or  Rosa,  with 
4 seeing  eye  and  understanding  heart,  picture  George  Fox  on 
4 that  morning,  when  he  spreads  out  his  cutting-board  for  the 
4 last  time,  and  cuts  cow-hides  by  unwonted  patterns,  and 
4 stitches  them  together  into  one  continuous  all-including  Case, 
4 the  farewell  service  of  his  awl ! Stitch  away,  thou  noble 
4 Fox:  every  prick  of  that  little  instrument  is  piicking  into 
4 the  heart  of  Slavery,  and  World-worship,  and  the  Mammon- 
4 god.  Thy  elbows  jerk,  as  in  strong  swimmer-strokes,  and 
4 every  stroke  is  bearing  thee  across  the  Prison-ditch,  within 
4 which  Vanity  holds  her  Workhouse  and  Ragfair,  into  lands 
4 of  true  liberty ; were  the  work  done,  there  is  in  broad  Eu- 
4 rope  one  Free  Man,  and  thou  art  he ! 

4 Thus  from  the  lowest  depth  there  is  a path  to  the  loftiest 
4 height ; and  for  the  Poor  also  a Gospel  has  been  published. 
4 Surely,  if,  as  D’Alembert  asserts,  my  illustrious  namesake, 
4 Diogenes,  was  the  greatest  man  of  Antiquity,  only  that  he 
4 wanted  Decency,  then  by  stronger  reason  is  George  Fox  the 
4 greatest  of  the  Moderns ; and  greater  than  Diogenes  him- 
4 self  : for  he  too  stands  on  the  adamantine  basis  of  his  Man- 
4 hood,  casting  aside  all  props  and  shoars  ; yet  not,  in  half- 
4 savage  Pride,  undervaluing  the  Earth  ; valuing  it  rather,  as 
4 a place  to  yield  him  warmth  and  food,  he  looks  Heavenward 
4 from  his  Earth,  and  dwells  in  an  element  of  Mercy  and  Wor- 
4 ship,  with  a still  Strength,  such  as  the  Cynic’s  Tub  did  no- 
4 wise  witness.  Great,  truly,  was  that  Tub  ; a temple  from 
4 which  man’s  dignity  and  divinity  wTas  scornfully  preached 
4 abroad  ; but  greater  is  the  Leather  Hull,  for  the  same  ser- 
4 mon  was  preached  there,  and  not  in  Scorn  but  in  Love.’ 

George  Fox’s  4 perennial  suit,’  with  all  that  it  held,  has  been 
worn  quite  into  ashes  for  nigh  two  centuries  : why,  in  a dis- 
cussion on  the  Perfectibility  of  Society , reproduce  it  now? 


INCIDENT  IN  MODERN  HISTORY. 


171 


Not  out  of  blind  sectarian  partisanship  : Teufelsdrockh  him- 
self is  no  Quaker  ; with  all  his  pacific  tendencies,  did  we  not 
see  him,  in  that  scene  at  the  North  Cape,  with  the  Archangel 
Smuggler,  exhibit  fire-arms  ? 

For  us,  aware  of  his  deep  Sansculottism,  there  is  more 
meant  in  this  passage  than  meets  the  ear.  At  the  same  time, 
who  can  avoid  smiling  at  the  earnestness  and  Boeotian  sim- 
plicity (if  indeed  there  be  not  an  underhand  satire  in  it),  with 
wdiich  that  ‘Incident’ is  here  brought  forward;  and,  in  the 
Professor’s  ambiguous  way,  as  clearly  perhaps  as  he  durst  in 
Weissnichtwo,  recommended  to  imitation ! Does  Teufels- 
drockh anticipate  that,  in  this  age  of  refinement,  any  consid- 
erable class  of  the  community,  by  way  of  testifying  against 
the  ‘Mammon-god,’  and  escaping  from  what  he  calls  ‘Vanity’s 
Workhouse  and  Kagfair,’  where  doubtless  some  of  them  are 
toiled  and  whipped  and  hoodwinked  sufficiently, — will  sheathe 
themselves  in  close-fitting  cases  of  Leather?  The  idea  is 
ridiculous  in  the  extreme.  Will  Majesty  lay  aside  its  robes 
of  state,  and  Beauty  its  frills  and  train-gowns,  for  a second- 
skin  of  tanned  hide?  By  which  change  Huddersfield  and 
Manchester,  and  Coventry  and  Paisley,  and  the  Fancy-Bazaar, 
were  reduced  to  hungry  solitudes  ; and  only  Day  and  Martin 
could  profit.  For  neither  would  Teufelsdrockh’s  mad  day- 
dream, here  as  we  presume  covertly  intended,  of  levelling 
Society  ( levelling  it  indeed  with  a vengeance,  into  one  huge 
drowned  marsh !),  and  so  attaining  the  political  effects  of 
Nudity  without  its  frigorific  or  other  consequences, — be  there- 
by realised.  Would  not  the  rich  man  purchase  a waterproof 
suit  of  Russia  Leather  ; and  the  high-born  Belle  step  forth  in 
red  or  azure  morocco,  lined  with  shamoy  ; the  black  cowhide 
being  left  to  the  Drudges  and  Gibeonites  of  the  world ; and 
so  all  the  old  Distinctions  be  re-established  ? 

Or  has  the  Professor  his  own  deeper  intention  ; and  laughs 
in  his  sleeve  at  our  strictures  and  glosses,  which  indeed  are 
but  a part  thereof  ? 


172 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHURCH-CLOTHES. 

Not  less  questionable  is  his  Chapter  on  Church- Clothes, 
which  has  the  farther  distinction  of  being  the  shortest  in  the 
Volume.  We  here  translate  it  entire  : 

‘ By  Church  Clothes,  it  need  not  be  premised,  that  I mean 
‘ infinitely  more  than  Cassocks  and  Surplices  ; and  do  not  at 
‘ all  mean  the  mere  haberdasher  Sunday  Clothes  that  men  go 

* to  Church  in.  Ear  from  it ! Church-Clothes  are,  in  our 
‘ vocabulary,  the  Forms,  the  Vestures,  under  which  men  have 

* at  various  periods  embodied  and  represented  for  themselves 
‘ the  Religious  Principle  ; that  is  to  say,  invested  the  Divine 
‘ Idea  of  the  World  with  a sensible  and  practically  active  Body, 
‘ so  that  it  might  dwell  among  them  as  a living  and  life-giving 
‘ Word. 

‘ These  are  unspeakably  the  most  important  of  all  the  ves- 

* tures  and  garnitures  of  Human  Existence.  They  are  first 
‘ spun  and  woven,  I may  say,  by  that  wonder  of  wonders, 

* Society  ; for  it  is  still  only  when  “ two  or  three  are  gathered 
‘ together  ” that  Religion,  spiritually  existent,  and  indeed  in- 
‘ destructible  however  latent,  in  each,  first  outwardly  manifests 
‘ itself  (as  with“  cloven  tongues  of  fire  ”),  and  seeks  to  be  em- 
‘ bodied  in  a visible  Communion,  and  Church  Militant.  Mysti- 
‘ cal,  more  than  magical,  is  that  Communing  of  Soul  with  Soul, 
‘ both  looking  heavenward  ; here  properly  Soul  first  speaks 
‘ with  Soul ; for  only  in  looking  heavenward,  take  it  in  what 
‘ sense  you  may,  not  in  looking  earthward,  does  what  we  can 
‘ call  Union,  mutual  Love,  Society,  begin  to  be  possible. 

* How  true  is  that  of  Novalis  ; “ It  is  certain,  my  Belief  gains 
‘ quite  infinitely  the  moment  I can  convince  another  mind 
‘ thereof ! ” Gaze  thou  in  the  face  of  thy  Brother,  in  those 

* eyes  where  plays  the  lambent  fire  of  Kindness,  or  in  those 

* where  rages  the  lurid  conflagration  of  Anger  ; feel  how  thy 
‘ own  so  quiet  Soul  is  straightway  involuntarily  kindled  with 
‘ the  like,  and  ye  blaze  and  reverberate  ou  each  other,  till  it 


CHURCH-  CLOTHES . 


173 


c is  all  one  limitless  confluent  flame  (of  embracing  Love,  or  of 

* deadly-grappling  Hate) ; and  then  say  what  miraculous  virtue 
c goes  out  of  man  into  man.  But  if  so,  through  all  the  thick- 
i plied  hull  of  our  Earthly  Life  ; how  much  more  when  it  is 
‘ of  the  Divine  Life  we  speak,  and  inmost  Me  is,  as  it  were, 
‘ brought  into  contact  with  inmost  Me  ! 

‘ Thus  was  it  that  I said,  the  Church-Clothes  are  first  spun 
6 and  woven  by  Society ; outward  Beligion  originates  by  So- 
‘ ciety,  Society  becomes  possible  by  Religion.  Nay,  perhaps 
c every  conceivable  Society,  past  and  present,  may  well  be  fig- 
‘ ured  as  properly  and  wholly  a Church,  in  one  or  other  of 
‘ these  three  predicaments  : an  audibly  preaching  and  prophe- 
c sying  Church,  which  is  the  best  : second,  a Church  that  strug- 
‘ gles  to  preach  and  prophesy,  but  cannot  as  yet,  till  its  Pen- 
‘ tecost  come  ; and  third  and  worst,  a Church  gone  dumb  with 
‘ old  age,  or  which  only  mumbles  delirium  prior  to  dissolution. 

* Whoso  fancies  that  by  Church  is  here  meant  Chapterhouses 
‘ and  Cathedrals,  or  by  preaching  and  prophesying,  mere 

* speech  and  chaunting,  let  him,’  says  the  oracular  Professor, 
‘ read  on,  light  of  heart  (getrosten  Muthes). 

6 But  with  regard  to  your  Church  proper,  and  the  Churcli- 
‘ Clothes  specially  recognised  as  Church-Clothes,  I remark, 

* fearlessly  enough,  that  without  such  Vestures  and  sacred  Tis- 
‘ sues  Society  has  not  existed,  and  will  not  exist.  For  if  Gov- 
‘ ernment  is,  so  to  speak,  the  outward  skin  of  the  Body  Politic^ 

* holding  the  whole  together  and  protecting  it ; and  all  your 
‘ Craft-Guilds,  and  Associations  for  Industry,  of  hand  or  of 
‘ head,  are  the  Fleshly  Clothes,  the  muscular  and  osseous  Tis- 
‘ sues,  (lying  under  such  skin),  whereby  Society  stands  and 
‘ works ; — then  is  Religion  the  inmost  Pericardial  and 
6 Nervous  Tissue,  which  ministers  Life  and  warm  Circulation 
‘ to  the  whole.  Without  which  Pericardial  Tissue  the  Bones 
‘ and  Muscles  (of  Industry)  were  inert,  or  animated  only  by  a 

* Galvanic  vitality  : the  skin  would  become  a shrivelled  pelt,  or 

* fast-rotting  raw-hide  ; and  Society  itself  a dead  carcass, — 
£ deserving  to  be  buried.  Men  were  no  longer  Social,  but 
‘ Gregarious  ; which  latter  state  also  could  not  continue,  but 
‘ must  gradually  issue  in  universal  selfish  discord,  hatred, 


174 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


4 savage  isolation,  and  dispersion  ; — whereby,  as  we  might 
4 continue  to  say,  the  very  dust  and  dead  body  of  Society 
4 would  have  evaporated  and  become  abolished.  Such,  and  so 
4 all-important,  all-sustaining,  are  the  Church-Clothes,  to  civi- 
4 lised  or  even  to  rational  man. 

4 Meanwhile,  in  our  era  of  the  World,  those  same  Church- 
£ Clothes  have  gone  sorrowfully  out  at  elbows  : nay,  far  worse, 
4 many  of  them  have  become  mere  hollow  Shapes,  or  Masks, 
4 under  which  no  living  Figure  or  Spirit  any  longer  dwells  ; 
4 but  only  spiders  and  unclean  beetles,  in  horrid  accumulation, 
4 drive  their  trade  ; and  the  Mask  still  glares  on  you  with  its 
4 glass-eyes,  in  ghastly  affectation  of  Life, — some  generation 
4 and  half  after  Keligion  has  quite  withdrawn  from  it,  and  in 
4 unnoticed  nooks  is  weaving  for  herself  new  Vestures,  where- 
4 with  to  reappear,  and  bless  us,  or  our  sons  or  grandsons.  As 
4 a Priest,  or  Interpreter  of  the  Holy,  is  the  noblest  and  high- 
4 est  of  all  men,  so  is  a Shampriest  (Schein-priesterr)  the  falsest 
4 and  basest : neither  is  it  doubtful  that  his  Canonicals,  were 
4 they  Popes’  Tiaras,  will  one  day  be  torn  from  him,  to  make 
4 bandages  for  the  wounds  of  mankind  ; or  even  to  burn  into 
4 tinder,  for  general  scientific  or  culinary  purposes. 

4 All  which,  as  out  of  place  here,  falls  to  be  handled  in  my 
4 Second  Volume,  On  the  Paling enesia,  or  Newbirth  of  Society  ; 
4 which  volume,  as  treating  practically  of  the  Wear,  Destruc- 
4 tion,  and  Ee-texture  of  Spiritual  Tissues,  or  Garments,  forms, 
4 properly  speaking,  the  Transcendental  or  ultimate  Portion 
4 of  this  my  Work  on  Clothes , and  is  already  in  a state  of  for- 
4 wTardDess.’ 

And  herewith,  no  farther  exposition,  note,  or  commentary 
being  added,  does  Teufelsdrockh,  and  must  his  Editor  now, 
terminate  the  singular  chapter  on  Church-Clothes  ! 


SYMBOLS. 


175 


CHAPTER  HI. 

SYMBOLS. 

Probably  it  will  elucidate  the  drift  of  these  foregoing  ob- 
scure utterances,  if  we  here  insert  somewhat  of  our  Professor’s 
speculations  on  Symbols . To  state  his  whole  doctrine,  in- 
deed, were  beyond  our  compass  : nowhere  is  he  more  myste- 
rious, impalpable,  than  in  this  of  4 Fantasy  being  the  organ  of 
4 the  Godlike  ; 5 and  how  c Man  thereby,  though  based,  to  all 
c seeming,  on  the  small  Visible,  does  nevertheless  extend  down 
4 into  the  infinite  deeps  of  the  Invisible,  of  which  Invisible, 
4 indeed,  his  Life  is  properly  the  bodying  forth.’  Let  us, 
omitting  these  high  transcendental  aspects  of  the  matter, 
study  to  glean  (whether  from  the  Paperbags  or  the  Printed 
Volume)  what  little  seems  logical  and  practical,  and  cunningly 
arrange  it  into  such  degree  of  coherence  as  it  will  assume. 
By  way  of  proem,  take  the  following  not  injudicious  remarks  : 

4 The  benignant  efficacies  of  Concealment,’  cries  our  Pro- 
fessor, c who  shall  speak  or  sing  ? Silence  and  Secrecy  ! Al- 
4 tars  might  still  be  raised  to  them  (were  this  an  altar-build- 
4 ing  time)  for  universal  worship.  Silence  is  the  element  in 
4 which  great  things  fashion  themselves  together  ; that  at 
4 length  they  may  emerge,  full-formed  and  majestic,  into  the 
4 daylight  of  Life,  which  they  are  thenceforth  to  rule.  Not 
4 William  the  Silent  only,  but  all  the  considerable  men  I have 
4 known,  and  the  most  undiplomatic  and  unstrategic  of  these, 

4 forbore  to  babble  of  what  they  were  creating  and  projecting. 

4 Nay,  in  thy  own  mean  perplexities,  do  thou  thyself  but  hold 
4 thy  tongue  for  one  day  : on  the  morrow,  how  much  clearer 
4 are  thy  purposes,  and  duties  ; what  wreck  and  rubbish  have 
i those  mute  workmen  within  thee  swept  away,  when  intru- 
4 sive  noises  were  shut  out ! Speech  is  too  often  not  as  the 
4 Frenchman  defined  it,  the  art  of  concealing  Thought ; but 
4 of  quite  stifling  and  suspending  Thought,  so  that  there  is 
4 none  to  conceal.  Speech  too  is  great,  but  not  the  greatest. 

4 As  the  Swiss  Inscription  says : Sprechen  ist  silbern , Schweigen 


176 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 ist  golden  (Speech  is  silvern,  Silence  is  golden)  ; or  as  I 
4 might  rather  express  it : Speech  is  of  Time,  Silence  is  of 
4 Eternity. 

4 Bees  will  not  work  except  in  darkness  ; Thought  will  not 
4 work  except  in  Silence ; neither  will  Virtue  work  except  in 
4 Secrecy.  Let  not  thy  right  hand  know  what  thy  left  hand 
4 doeth  ! Neither  shalt  thou  prate  even  to  thy  own  heart  of 
4 44  those  secrets  known  to  all.”  Is  not  Shame  the  soil  of  all 
4 Virtue,  of  all  good  manners,  and  good  morals  ? Like  other 
4 plants,  Virtue  will  not  grow  unless  its  root  be  hidden, 
4 buried  from  the  eye  of  the  sun.  Let  the  sun  shine  on  it, 
4 nay,  do  but  look  at  it  privily  thyself,  the  root  withers,  and 
4 no  flower  will  glad  thee.  O my  Friends,  when  we  view  the 
4 fair  clustering  flowers  that  over-wreathe,  for  example,  the 
4 Marriage-bower,  and  encircle  man’s  life  with  the  fragrance 
4 and  hues  of  Heaven,  what  hand  will  not  smite  the  foul 
4 plunderer  that  grubs  them  up  by  the  roots,  and,  with  grin- 
4 ning,  grunting  satisfaction,  shews  us  the  dung  they  flourish 
4 in  ! Men  speak  much  of  the  Printing  Press  with  its  News- 
4 papers  : du  Himmel ! what  are  these  to  Clothes  and  the 
4 Tailor’s  Goose  ? ’ 

4 Of  kin  to  the  so  incalculable  influences  of  Concealment, 
4 and  connected  with  still  greater  things,  is  the  wondrous 
4 agency  of  Symbols.  In  a Symbol  there  is  concealment  and 
4 yet  revelation : here,  therefore,  by  Silence  and  by  Speech 
4 acting  together,  comes  a doubled  significance.  And  if  both 
4 the  Speech  be  itself  high,  and  the  Silence  fit  and  noble,  how 
4 expressive  will  their  union  be ! Thus  in  many  a painted 
4 Device,  or  simple  Seal-emblem,  the  commonest  Truth  stands 
4 out  to  us  proclaimed  with  quite  new  emphasis. 

4 For  it  is  here  that  Fantasy  with  her  mystic  wonderland 
4 plays  into  the  small  prose  domain  of  Sense,  and  becomes  in- 
4 corporated  therewith.  In  the  Symbol  proper,  what  we  can 
4 call  a Symbol,  there  is  ever,  more  or  less  distinctly  and  di- 
4 rectly,  some  embodiment  and  revelation  of  the  Infinite  ; the 
4 Infinite  is  made  to  blend  itself  with  the  Finite,  to  stand  vis- 
4 ible,  and  as  it  were,  attainable  there.  By  Symbols,  accord- 
4 ingly,  is  man  guided  and  commanded,  made  happy,  made 


SYMBOLS. 


177 


f wretched.  He  everywhere  finds  himself  encompassed  with 
i Symbols,  recognised  as  such  or  not  recognised  : the  Uni- 
‘ verse  is  but  one  vast  Symbol  of  God  ; nay,  if  thou  wilt  have 
‘ it,  what  is  man  himself  but  a Symbol  of  God  ; is  not  all  that 
‘ he  does  symbolical ; a revelation  to  Sense  of  the  mystic  god- 
‘ given  Force  that  is  in  him  ; a “ Gospel  of  Freedom,”  which 
‘ he,  the  “ Messias  of  Nature,”  preaches,  as  he  can,  by  act  and 
‘ word  ? Not  a Hut  he  builds  but  is  the  visible  embodiment 
‘ of  a Thought ; but  bears  visible  record  of  invisible  things  ; 
‘ but  is,  in  the  transcendental  sense,  symbolical  as  well  as 
‘ real/ 

‘ Man,’  says  the  Professor  elsewhere,  in  quite  antipodal  con- 
trast with  these  high- soaring  delineations,  which  we  have 
here  cut  short  on  the  verge  of  the  inane,  c man  is  by  birth 
‘ somewhat  of  an  owl.  Perhaps,  too,  of  all  the  owleries  that 
‘ ever  possessed  him,  the  most  owiish,  if  we  consider  it,  is 
‘ that  of  your  actually  existing  Motive-Millwrights.  Fantas- 
‘ tic  tricks  enough  has  man  played,  in  his  time  ; has  fancied 
‘ himself  to  be  most  things,  down  even  to  an  animated  heap 
‘ of  Glass : but  to  fancy  himself  a dead  Iron-Balance  for 
‘ weighing  Pains  and  Pleasures  on,  was  reserved  for  this  his 
‘ latter  era.  There  stands  he,  his  Universe  one  huge  Manger, 
‘ filled  with  hay  and  thistles  to  be  weighed  against  each  other  ; 

* and  looks  long-eared  enough.  Alas,  poor  devil ! spectres 
‘ are  appointed  to  haunt  him  : one  age,  he  is  hagridden,  be- 

* witched  ; the  next,  priestridden,  befooled  ; in  all  ages,  be- 
‘ devilled.  And  now  the  Genius  of  Mechanism  smothers  him 
‘ worse  than  any  Nightmare  did  ; till  the  Soul  is  nigh  choked 
‘ out  of  him,  and  only  a kind  of  Digestive,  Mechanic  life  re- 
‘ mains.  In  Earth  and  in  Heaven  he  can  see  nothing  but 
‘ Mechanism  ; has  fear  for  nothing  else,  hope  in  nothing  else  : 

‘ the  world  would  indeed  grind  him  to  pieces  ; but  cannot  he 
‘ fathom  the  Doctrine  of  Motives,  and  cunningly  compute 
‘ these,  and  mechanise  them  to  grind  the  other  way  ? 

‘Were  he  not,  as  has  been  said,  purblinded  by  enchant- 
€ ment,  you  had  but  to  bid  him  open  his  eyes  and  look.  In 
‘ which  country,  in  which  time,  was  it  hitherto  that  man’s  his- 
‘ tory,  or  the  history  of  any  man,  went  on  by  calculated  or 
12 


178 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


c calculable  “ Motives  ? ” What  make  ye  of  your  Christian!- 
f ties,  and  Chivalries,  and  Reformations,  and  Marseillese 
‘ Hymns,  and  Reigns  of  Terror  ? Nay,  has  not  perhaps,  the 
‘ Motive-grinder  himself  been  in  Love  ? Did  he  never  stand 
‘ so  much  as  a contested  Election?  Leave  him  to  Time,  and 
‘ the  medicating  virtue  of  Nature.’ 

‘ Yes,  Friends,’  elsewhere  observes  the  Professor,  ‘ not  our 
£ Logical,  Mensurative  faculty,  but  our  Imaginative  one  is 
‘ King  over  us  ; I might  say,  Priest  and  Prophet  to  lead  us 
‘ heavenward  ; or  Magician  and  Wizard  to  lead  us  hellward. 
‘ Nay,  even  for  the  basest  Sensualist,  what  is  Sense  but  the 
‘ implement  of  Fantasy  ; the  vessel  it  drinks  out  of  ? Ever  in 
‘ the  dullest  existence,  there  is  a sheen  either  of  Inspiration 
‘ or  of  Madness  (thou  partly  hast  it  in  thy  choice,  which  of 
‘ the  two)  that  gleams  in  from  the  circumambient  Eternity, 
‘ and  colours  with  its  own  hues  our  little  islet  of  Time.  The 
‘ Understanding  is  indeed  thy  window,  too  clear  thou  canst 
c not  make  it ; but  Fantasy  is  thy  eye,  with  its  colour-giving 
‘ retina,  healthy  or  diseased.  Have  not  I myself  known  five 
‘ hundred  living  soldiers  sabred  into  crows’  meat,  for  a piece 
‘ of  glazed  cotton,  which  they  called  their  Flag ; which,  had 

* you  sold  it  at  any  market-cross,  wTould  not  have  brought 

* above  three  groschen  ? Did  not  the  whole  Hungarian  Na- 
‘ tion  rise,  like  some  tumultuous  moon-stirred  Atlantic,  when 
‘ Kaiser  Joseph  pocketed  their  Iron  Crown  ; an  implement,  as 
‘ was  sagaciously  observed,  in  size  and  commercial  value,  little 
‘ differing  from  a horse-shoe  ? It  is  in  and  through  Symbols 
‘ that  man,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  lives,  works,  and  has 
‘ his  being:  those  ages,  moreover,  are  accounted  the  noblest 
‘ which  can  the  best  recognise  symbolical  worth,  and  prize  it 
i the  highest.  For  is  not  a Symbol  ever,  to  him  who  has  eyes 
6 for  it,  some  dimmer  or  clearer  revelation  of  the  Godlike  ? 

‘ Of  Symbols,  however,  I remark  farther,  that  they  have 
‘ both  an  extrinsic  and  intrinsic  value  ; oftenest  the  former 
‘ only.  What,  for  instance,  was  in  that  clouted  Shoe,  which 
c the  peasants  bore  aloft  with  them  as  ensign  in  their  Bauern - 
‘ krieg  (Peasants’  War)  ? Or  in  the  Wallet-and-staff  round 
‘ which  the  Netherland  Gueux , glorying  in  that  nickname  of 


SYMBOLS. 


179 


4 Beggars,  heroically  rallied  and  prevailed,  though  against 
4 King  Philip  himself?  Intrinsic  significance  these  had  none  : 
4 only  extrinsic  ; as  the  accidental  Standards  of  multitudes 
4 more  or  less  sacredly  uniting  together ; in  which  union  it- 
4 self,  as  above  noted,  there  is  ever  something  mystical  and 
4 borrowing  of  the  Godlike.  Under  a like  category  too, 
4 stand,  or  stood,  the  stupidest  heraldic  Coats-of-arms  ; mili- 
4 tary  Banners  everywhere  ; and  generally  all  national  or 
4 other  sectarian  Costumes  and  Customs : they  have  no  in- 
4 trinsic,  necessary  divineness,  or  even  worth ; but  have 
4 acquired  an  extrinsic  one.  Nevertheless  through  all  these 
4 there  glimmers  something  of  a Divine  Idea  ; as  through 
4 military  Banners  themselves,  the  Divine  Idea  of  Duty,  of 
4 heroic  Daring  ; in  some  instances  of  Freedom,  of  Bight. 
4 Nay,  the  highest  ensign  that  men  ever  met  and  embraced 
4 under,  the  Cross  itself,  had  no  meaning  save  an  accidental 
4 extrinsic  one. 

‘Another  matter  it  is,  however,  when  your  Symbol  has 
4 intrinsic  meaning,  and  is  of  itself  Jit  that  men  should  unite 
4 round  it.  Let  but  the  Godlike  manifest  itself  to  Sense  ; let 
4 but  Eternity  look,  more  or  less  visibly,  through  the  Time- 
4 figure  ( Zeitbild ) ! Then  is  it  fit  that  men  unite  there  ; and 
4 worship  together  before  such  Symbol ; and  so  from  day  to 
4 day,  and  from  age  to  age,  superadd  to  it  new  divineness. 

4 Of  this  latter  sort  are  all  true  Works  of  Art : in  them  (if 
4 thou  know  a Work  of  Art  from  a Daub  of  Artifice)  wilt 
4 thou  discern  Eternity  looking  through  Time  ; the  Godlike 
4 rendered  visible.  Here  too  may  an  extrinsic  value  grad- 
4 ually  superadd  itself  : thus  certain  Iliads , and  the  like,  have, 
4 in  three  thousand  years,  attained  quite  new  significance. 
4 But  nobler  than  all  in  this  kind  are  the  Lives  of  heroic  god- 
4 inspired  Men  ; for  what  other  Work  of  Art  is  so  divine  ? In 
4 Death  too,  in  the  Death  of  the  Just,  as  the  last  perfection  of 
4 a Work  of  Art,  may  we  not  discern  symbolic  meaning?  In 
4 that  divinely  transfigured  Sleep,  as  of  Victory,  resting  over 
4 the  beloved  face  which  now  knows  thee  no  more,  read  (if 
4 thou  canst  for  tears)  the  confluence  of  Time  with  Eternity, 
4 and  some  gleam  of  the  latter  peering  through. 


180 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 Highest  of  all  Symbols  are  those  wherein  the  Artist  or 
4 Poet  has  risen  into  Prophet,  and  all  men  can  recognise  a 
c present  God,  and  worship  the  same  : I mean  religious  Sym- 
4 bols.  Various  enough  have  been  such  religious  Symbols, 
4 what  we  call  Religions  ; as  men  stood  in  this  stage  of  culture 
4 or  the  other,  and  could  worse  or  better  body  forth  the  God- 
4 like  ; some  Symbols  with  a transient  intrinsic  worth  ; many 
4 with  only  an  extrinsic.  If  thou  ask  to  what  height  man  has 
4 carried  it  in  this  manner  look  on  our  divinest  Symbol : on 
4 Jesus  of  Nazareth,  and  his  Life,  and  his  Biography,  and  what 
‘followed  therefrom.  Higher  has  the  human  Thought  not 
4 yet  reached  : this  is  Christianity,  and  Christendom  ; a Sym- 
4 bol  of  quite  perennial,  infinite  character  ; whose  significance 
4 will  ever  demand  to  be  anew  inquired  into,  and  anew  made 
4 manifest. 

4 But,  on  the  whole,  as  Time  adds  much  to  the  sacredness 
4 of  Symbols,  so  likewise  in  his  progress  he  at  length  defaces, 
4 or  even  desecrates  them  ; and  Symbols,  like  all  terrestrial 
4 Garments,  wax  old.  Homer’s  Epos  has  not  ceased  to  be 
4 true  ; yet  it  is  no  longer  our  Epos,  but  shines  in  the  dis- 
tance, if  clearer  and  clearer,  yet  also  smaller  and  smaller, 
4 like  a receding  Star.  It  needs  a scientific  telescope,  it  needs 
4 to  be  reinterpreted  and  artificially  brought  near  us,  before 
4 we  can  so  much  as  know  that  it  was  a Sun.  So  likewise  a 
4 day  comes  when  the  Bunic  Thor,  with  his  Eddas,  must  wi^th- 
4 draw  into  dimness  ; and  many  an  African  Mumbo -Jumbo, 
4 and  Indian  Pawaw  be  utterly  abolished.  For  all  things,  even 
4 Celestial  Luminaries,  much  more  atmospheric  meteors,  have 
4 their  rise,  their  culmination,  their  decline/ 

4 Small  is  this  which  thou  tellest  me,  that  the  Royal  Sceptre 
4 is  but  a piece  of  gilt  wood  ; that  the  Pyx  has  become  a most 
4 foolish  box,  and  truly,  as  Ancient  Pistol  thought,  44  of  little 
‘price.”  Aright  Conjuror  might  I name  thee,  couldst  thou 
4 conjure  back  into  these  wooden  tools  the  divine  virtue  they 
4 once  held/ 

4 Of  this  thing,  however,  be  certain  : wouldst  thou  plant  for 
4 Eternity,  then  plant  into  the  deep  infinite  faculties  of  man, 
4 his  Fantasy  and  Heart : wouldst  thou  plant  for  Year  and 


HELOTAGE. 


181 


‘ Day,  then  plant  into  his  shallow  superficial  faculties,  his 
‘Self-love  and  Arithmetical  Understanding,  what  will  grow 
‘ there.  A Hierarch,  therefore,  and  Pontiff  of  the  World  will 
‘ we  call  him,  the  Poet  and  inspired  Maker  ; who,  Prome- 
‘ theus-like,  can  shape  new  Symbols,  and  bring  new  Fire  from 
c Heaven  to  fix  it  there.  Such  too  will  not  always  be  want- 
‘ ing ; neither  perhaps  now  are.  Meanwhile,  as  the  average 
‘ of  matter  goes,  we  account  him  Legislator  and  wise  who  can 
‘ so  much  as  tell  when  a Symbol  has  grown  old,  and  gently 
‘remove  it. 

‘ When,  as  the  last  English  Coronation  * was  preparing/ 
concludes  this  wonderful  Professor,  ‘ I read  in  their  News- 
‘ papers  that  the  “ Champion  of  England/’  he  who  has  to  offer 
‘ battle  to  the  Universe  for  his  new  King,  had  brought  it  so 
* far  that  he  could  now  <c  mount  his  horse  with  little  assist- 
‘ ance,”  I said  to  myself : Here  also  we  have  a Symbol  well 
‘ nigh  superannuated.  Alas,  move  whithersoever  you  may,  are 
‘ not  the  tatters  and  rags  of  superannuated  worn-out  Symbols 
‘ (in  this  Ragfair  of  a World)  dropping  off  everywhere,  to  hood- 
‘ wink,  to  halter,  to  tether  you  ; nay,  if  you  shake  them  not 
‘ aside,  threatening  to  accumulate,  and  perhaps  produce  suffo- 
‘ cation.’ 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HELOTAGE. 

At  this  point  we  determine  on  adverting  shortly,  or  rather 
reverting,  to  a certain  Tract  of  Hofrath  Heuschrecke’s,  entitled 
Institute  for  the  Repression  of  Population  ; which  lies,  dishon- 
ourably enough  (with  torn  leaves,  and  a perceptible  smell  of 
aloetic  drugs),  stuffed  into  the  Bag  Pisces . Not  indeed  foi 
the  sake  of  the  Tract  itself,  which  we  admire  little  ; but  of  the 
marginal  Notes,  evidently  in  Teufelsdrockh’s  hand,  which 
rather  copiously  fringe  it.  A few  of  these  may  be  in  the  right 
place  here. 

Into  the  Hofrath’s  Institute , with  its  extraordinary  schemes, 
and  machinery  of  Corresponding  Boards  and  the  like,  we  shall 
* That  of  George  IV.—  Ed, 


182 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


not  so  much  as  glance.  Enough  for  us  to  understand  that  Heu- 
schrecke  is  a disciple  of  Malthus  ; and  so  zealous  for  the  doc- 
trine, that  his  zeal  almost  literally  eats  him  up.  A deadly  fear 
of  Population  possesses  the  Hofrath  ; something  like  a fixed- 
idea  ; undoubtedly  akin  to  the  more  diluted  forms  of  Madness. 
Nowhere,  in  that  quarter  of  his  intellectual  world,  is  there 
light ; nothing  but  a grim  shadow  of  Hunger  ; open  mouths 
opening  wider  and  wider  ; a world  to  terminate  by  the  friglit- 
fulest  consummation  ; by  its  too  dense  inhabitants,  famished 
into  delirium,  universally  eating  one  another.  To  make  air 
for  himself  in  which  strangulation,  choking  enough  to  a be- 
nevolent heart,  the  Hofrath  founds,  or  proposes  to  found,  this 
Institute  of  his,  as  the  best  he  can  do.  It  is  only  with  our 
Professor’s  comments  thereon  that  we  concern  ourselves. 

First,  then,  remark  that  Teufelsdrockh,  as  a speculative 
Radical,  has  his  own  notions  about  human  dignity  ; that  the 
Zahdarm  palaces  and  courtesies  have  not  made  him  forgetful 
of  the  Futteral  cottages.  On  the  blank  cover  of  Heuschrecke’s 
Tract,  we  find  the  following  indistinctly  engrossed : 

4 Two  men  I honour,  and  no  third.  First,  the  toilworn 
4 Craftsman  that  with  earth-made  Implement  laboriously  con- 
4 quers  the  Earth,  and  makes  her  man’s.  Venerable  to  me  is 
4 the  hard  Hand  ; crooked,  coarse  ; wherein  notwithstanding 
4 lies  a cunning  virtue,  indefeasibly  royal,  as  of  the  Sceptre  of 
4 this  Planet.  Venerable  too  is  the  rugged  face,  all  weather- 
4 tanned,  besoiled,  with  its  rude  intelligence  ; for  it  is  the 
4 face  of  a Man  living  manlike.  Oh,  but  the  more  venerable 
4 for  thy  rudeness,  and  even  because  wc  must  pity  as  well  as 
4 love  thee  ! Hardly-entreated  Brother  ! For  us  was  thy 
4 back  so  bent,  for  us  were  thy  straight  limbs  and  fingers  so 
4 deformed : thou  wert  our  Conscript,  on  whom  the  lot  fell, 
4 and  fighting  our  battles  wert  so  marred.  For  in  thee  too 
4 lay  a god-created  Form,  but  it  was  not  to  be  unfolded  ; en- 
4 crusted  must  it  stand  with  the  thick  adhesions  and  deface- 
4 ments  of  Labour ; and  thy  body,  like  thy  soul,  was  not  to 
4 know  freedom.  Yet  toil  on,  toil  on  : thou  art  in  thy  duty, 
4 be  out  of  it  who  may  ; thou  toilest  for  the  altogether  indis- 
4 pensable,  for  daily  bread. 


HE  LOT  AGE. 


183 


4 A second  man  I honour,  and  still  more  highly  : Him  who 
4 is  seen  toiling  for  the  spiritually  indispensable  ; not  daily 
4 bread,  but  the  Bread  of  Life.  Is  not  he  too  in  his  duty ; 
4 endeavouring  towards  inward  Harmony  ; revealing  this  by 
4 act,  or  by  word,  through  all  his  outward  endeavours,  be 
4 they  high  or  low?  Highest  of  all,  when  his  outward  and 
4 his  inward  endeavour  are  one  : when  we  can  name  him 
4 Artist ; not  earthly  Craftsman  only,  but  inspired  Thinker, 
4 who  with  heaven-made  Implement  conquers  Heaven  for  us  ! 
4 If  the  poor  and  humble  toil  that  we  have  Food,  must  not 
4 the  high  and  glorious  toil  for  him  in  return,  that  he  have 
4 Light,  have  Guidance,  Freedom,  Immortality? — These  two, 
4 in  all  their  degrees,  I honour : all  else  is  chaff  and  dust, 
4 which  let  the  wind  blow  whither  it  listeth. 

4 Unspeakably  touching  is  it,  however,  when  I find  both 
4 dignities  united  ; and  he  that  must  toil  outwardly  for  the 
4 lowest  of  man’s  wants,  is  also  toiling  inwardly  for  the  high- 
4 est.  Sublimer  in  this  world  know  I nothing  than  a Peasant 
4 Saint,  could  such  now  any  where  be  met  with.  Such  a one 
4 will  take  thee  back  to  Nazareth  itself  ; thou  wilt  see  the 
4 splendour  of  Heaven  spring  forth  from  the  humblest  depths 
4 of  Earth,  like  a light  shining  in  great  darkness.’ 

And  again  : 4 It  is  not  because  of  his  toils  that  I lament  for 
4 the  poor : we  must  all  toil,  or  steal  (howsoever  we  name  our 
4 stealing),  which  is  worse  ; no  faithful  workman  finds  his  task 
4 a pastime.  The  poor  is  hungry  and  athirst ; but  for  him 
4 also  there  is  food  and  drink  : he  is  heavy-laden  and  weary  ; 
4 but  for  him  also  the  Heavens  send  Sleep,  and  of  the  deep- 
4 est ; in  his  smoky  cribs,  a clear  dewy  heaven  of  Best  envel- 
4 opes  him,  and  fitful  glitterings  of  cloud-skirted  Dreams. 
4 But  what  I do  mourn  over  is,  that  the  lamp  of  his  soul 
4 should  go  out ; that  no  ray  of  heavenly,  or  even  of  earthly 
4 knowledge,  should  visit  him  ; but  only,  in  the  haggard 
4 darkness,  like  two  spectres,  Fear  and  Indignation  bear  him 
4 company.  Alas,  while  the  Body  stands  so  broad  and 
4 brawny,  must  the  Soul  lie  blinded,  dwarfed,  stupified,  al- 
4 most  annihilated  ! Alas,  was  this  too  a Breath  of  God  ; be- 
( stowed  in  Heaven,  but  on  earth  never  to  be  unfolded ! — - 


184 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 That  there  should  one  Man  die  Ignorant  who  had  capacity 
4 for  Knowledge,  this  I call  a tragedy,  were  it  to  happen  more 
4 than  twenty  times  in  the  minute,  as  by  some  computations 
4 it  does.  The  miserable  fraction  of  Science  which  our  united 
4 Mankind,  in  a wide  Universe  of  Nescience,  has  acquired, 
4 why  is  not  this,  with  all  diligence,  imparted  to  all  ? ’ 

Quite  in  an  opposite  strain  is  the  following  : * The  old 
4 Spartans  had  a wiser  method ; and  went  out  and  hunted 
4 down  their  Helots,  and  speared  and  spitted  them,  when 
4 they  grew  too  numerous.  With  our  improved  fashions  of 
4 hunting,  Herr  Hofrath,  now  after  the  invention  of  fire-arms, 
4 and  standing  armies,  how  much  easier  were  such  a hunt ! 
4 Perhaps  in  the  most  thickly-peopled  country,  some  three 
4 days  annually  might  suffice  to  shoot  all  the  able-bodied 
4 Paupers  that  had  accumulated  within  the  year.  Let  Gov- 
4 ernments  think  of  this.  The  expense  were  trifling  : nay, 
4 the  very  carcasses  would  pay  it.  Have  them  salted  and  bar- 
4 relied  ; could  not  you  victual  therewith,  if  not  Army  and 
4 Navy,  yet  richly  such  infirm  Paupers,  in  workhouses  and 
4 elsewhere,' as  enlightened  Charity,  dreading  no  evil  of  them, 
4 might  see  good  to  keep  alive  ? 9 

4 And  yet/  writes  he  farther  on,  4 there  must  be  something 
4 wrong.  A full-formed  Horse  wTill,  in  any  market,  bring 
4 from  twenty  to  as  high  as  two  hundred  Friedrichs  d’or : 
4 such  is  his  worth  to  the  world.  A full-formed  Man  is  not 
4 only  worth  nothing  to  the  world,  but  the  world  could  afford 
4 him  a round  sum  would  he  simply  engage  to  go  and  hang 
4 himself.  Nevertheless,  which  of  the  two  was  the  more  cun- 
4 ningly-devised  article,  even  as  an  Engine  ? Good  Heavens  ! 
4 A white  European  man,  standing  on  his  two  Legs,  with  his 
4 two  five-fingered  Hands  at  his  shackle-bones,  and  miraculous 
4 Head  on  his  shoulders,  is  worth,  I should  say,  from  fifty  to 
4 a hundred  Horses  ! 5 

4 True,  thou  Gold-Hofrath/  cries  the  Professor  elsewhere  : 
4 too  crowded  indeed  ! Meanwhile,  what  portion  of  this  in- 
4 considerable  terraqueous  Globe  have  ye  actually  tilled  and 
4 delved,  till  it  will  grow  no  more  ? How  thick  stands  your 
4 Population  in  the  Pampas  and  Savannas  of  America  ; round 


TEE  PHCENIX. 


185 


1 ancient  Carthage,  and  in  the  interior  of  Africa  ; on  both 
4 slopes  of  the  Altaic  chain,  in  the  central  Platform  of  Asia  ; 
4 in  Spain,  Greece,  Turkey,  Crim  Tartary,  the  Curragh  of  Kil- 
4 dare  ? One  man,  in  one  year,  as  I have  understood  it,  if  you 
4 lend  him  Earth,  will  feed  himself  and  nine  others.  Alas, 
4 where  now  are  the  Hengsts  and  Alarics  of  our  still  glowing, 
4 still  expanding  Europe  ; who,  when  their  home  is  grown  too 
4 narrow,  will  enlist  and,  like  Eire-pillars,  guide  onwards  those 
4 superfluous  masses  of  indomitable  living  Valour ; equipped, 
4 not  now  with  the  battle-axe  and  war-chariot,  but  with  the 
4 steam-engine  and  ploughshare  ? Where  are  they  ? — Pre» 
4 serving  their  Game  ! 9 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  PHCENIX. 

Putting  which  four  singular  Chapters  together,  and  along- 
side of  them  numerous  hints,  and  even  direct  utterances, 
scattered  over  these  Writings  of  his,  we  come  upon  the  start- 
ling, yet  not  quite  unlooked-for  conclusion,  that  Teufelsdrockh 
is  one  of  those  who  consider  Society,  properly  so  called,  to 
be  as  good  as  extinct ; and  that  only  the  Gregarious  feelings, 
and  old  inherited  habitudes,  at  this  juncture,  hold  us  from 
Dispersion,  and  universal  national,  civil,  domestic  and  per- 
sonal war  ! He  says  expressly  : 4 For  the  last  three  centuries, 
4 above  all,  for  the  last  three  quarters  of  a century,  that  same 
4 Pericardial  Nervous  Tissue  (as  we  named  it)  of  Religion, 
4 where  lies  the  Life-essence  of  Society,  has  been  smote  at  and 
4 perforated,  needfully  and  needlessly ; till  now  it  is  quite  rent 
4 into  shreds ; and  Society,  long  pining,  diabetic,  consump- 
4 tive,  can  be  regarded  as  defunct  ; for  those  spasmodic,  gal- 
4 vanic  sprawlings  are  not  life  ; neither  indeed  will  they  en- 
4 dure,  galvanise  as  you  may,  beyond  two  days/ 

4 Call  ye  that  a Society/  cries  he  again,  4 where  there  is  no 
4 longer  any  Social  Idea  extant ; not  so  much  as  the  Idea  of  a 
4 common  Home,  but  only  of  a common,  over-crowded  Lodg- 
4 ing-house  ? Where  each,  isolated,  regardless  of  his  neigh- 
4 bour,  turned  against  his  neighbour,  clutches  what  he  can 


186 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ get,  and  cries  44  Mine ! ” and  calls  it  Peace,  because,  in  the 
4 cut-purse  and  cut-throat  Scramble,  no  steel  knives,  but  only 
4 a far  cunninger  sort,  can  be  employed  ? Where  Friendship, 
4 Communion,  has  become  an  incredible  tradition  ; and  your 
4 holiest  Sacramental  Supper  is  a smoking  Tavern  Dinner, 
4 with  Cook  for  Evangelist  ? Where  your  Priest  has  no 
4 tongue  but  for  plate-licking : and  your  high  Guides  and 
4 Governors  cannot  guide  ; but  on  all  hands  hear  it  passion - 
4 ately  proclaimed  : Laissez  faire ; Leave  us  alone  of  your 
4 guidance,  such  light  is  darker  than  darkness  ; eat  you  your 
4 wages,  and  sleep ! 

4 Thus,  too,’  continues  he,  4 does  an  observant  eye  discern 
4 everywhere  that  saddest  spectacle  : The  Poor  perishing,  like 
4 neglected,  foundered  Draught-Cattle,  of  Hunger  and  Over- 
4 work  ; the  Rich,  still  more  wretchedly,  of  Idleness,  Satiety, 
4 and  Overgrowth.  The  Highest  in  rank,  at  length,  without 
4 honour  from  the  Lowest ; scarcely,  with  a little  mouth- 
4 honour,  as  from  tavern-waiters  wTho  expect  to  put  it  in  the 
4 bill.  Once  sacred  Symbols  fluttering  as  empty  Pageants, 
4 whereof  men  grudge  even  the  expense  ; a World  becoming 
4 dismantled  : in  one  wrord,  the  Church  fallen  speechless,  from 
4 obesity  and  apoplexy  ; the  State  shrunken  into  a Police- 
4 Office,  straitened  to  get  its  pay ! ” 

We  might  ask,  are  there  many  4 observant  eyes/  belonging 
to  Practical  men,  in  England  or  elsewhere,  which  have  descried 
these  phenomena ; or  is  it  only  from  the  mystic  elevation  of  a 
German  WaJingasse  that  such  wonders  are  visible  ? Teufels- 
drockh  contends  that  the  aspect  of  a 4 deceased  or  expiring 
Society 5 fronts  us  everywhere,  so  that  whoso  runs  may  read. 
4 What,  for  example/  says  he,  4 is  the  universally-arrogated 
4 Virtue,  almost  the  sole  remaining  Catholic  Virtue,  of  these 
4 days  ? For  some  half  century,  it  has  been  the  thing  you 
4 name,  44  Independence.”  Suspicion  of  u Servility,”  of  rever- 
4 ence  for  Superiors  the  very  dogieech  is  anxious  to  disavow7. 
4 Fools ! Were  your  Superiors  worthy  to  govern,  and  you 
4 worthy  to  obey,  reverence  for  them  were  even  your  only  pos- 
4 sible  freedom.  Independence,  in  all  kinds,  is  rebellion ; if 
4 unjust  rebellion,  why  parade  it,  and  everywhere  prescribe?’ 


THE  PIHEJSriX. 


187 


But  what  then  ? Are  we  returning,  as  Rousseau  prayed,  to 
the  state  of  Nature  ? £ The  Soul  Politic  having  departed,* 

says  Teufelsdrockh,  ‘ what  can  follow  but  that  the  Body  Pol- 
‘ itic  be  decently  interred,  to  avoid  putrescence  ? Liberals, 
‘ Economists,  Utilitarians  enough  I see  marching  with  its 
‘ bier,  and  chaunting  loud  paeans,  towards  the  funeral-pile, 
4 where,  amid  wailings  from  some,  and  saturnalian  revelries 
‘ from  the  most,  the  venerable  Corpse  is  to  be  burnt.  Or,  in 
4 plain  words,  that  these  men,  Liberals,  Utilitarians,  or  what- 
4 soever  they  are  called,  will  ultimately  carry  their  point,  and 
4 dissever  and  destroy  most  existing  Institutions  of  Society, 

* seems  a thing  which  has  some  time  ago  ceased  to  be  doubtful. 

* Do  we  not  see  a little  subdivision  of  the  grand  Utilitarian 
4 Armament  come  to  light  even  in  insulated  England  ? A 
4 living  nucleus,  that  will  attract  and  grow,  does  at  length 
4 appear  there  also ; and  under  curious  phasis ; properly  as 
4 the  inconsiderable  fag-end,  and  so  far  in  the  rear  of  the 
4 others  as  to  fancy  itself  the  van.  Our  European  Meehan is- 
4 ers  are  a sect  of  boundless  diffusion,  activity,  and  coopera- 
4 tive  spirit : has  not  Utilitarianism  flourished  in  high  places  of 
4 Thought,  here  among  ourselves,  and  in  every  European  coun- 

* try,  at  some  time  or  other,  within  the  last  fifty  years  ? If  now 
4 in  all  countries,  except  perhaps  England,  it  has  ceased  to 
4 flourish,  or  indeed  to  exist,  among  Thinkers,  and  sunk  to 
4 Journalists  and  the  popular  mass, — who  sees  not  that,  as 
£ hereby  it  no  longer  preaches,  so  the  reason  is,  it  now  needs 
£ no  Preaching,  but  is  in  full  universal  Action,  the  doctrine 
£ everywhere  known,  and  enthusiastically  laid  to  heart  ? The 
4 fit  pabulum,  in  these  times,  for  a certain  rugged  workshop- 
4 intellect  and  heart,  nowise  without  their  corresponding 
£ workshop-strength  and  ferocity,  it  requires  but  to  be  stated 
£ in  such  scenes  to  make  proselytes  enough. — Admirably  cal- 
£ culated  for  destroying,  only  not  for  rebuilding ! It  spreads 
£ like  a sort  of  Dog-madness ; till  the  whole  World-kennel 
£ will  be  rabid : then  woe  to  the  Huntsmen,  with  or  without 
4 their  whips  ! They  should  have  given  the  quadrupeds  water,* 
adds  he ; £ the  water,  namely,  of  Knowledge  and  of  Life, 

£ while  it  was  yet  time.’ 


188 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US, 


Thus,  if  Professor  Teufelsdrockh  can  be  relied  on,  we  are 
at  this  hour  in  a most  critical  condition  ; beleaguered  by 
that  boundless  ‘ Armament  of  Mechanisers  ’ and  Unbelievers, 
threatening  to  strip  us  bare!  4 The  World/ says  he,  ‘as  it 
‘ needs  must,  is  under  a process  of  devastation  and  waste, 

* which,  whether  by  silent  assiduous  corrosion,  or  open  quick- 
‘ er  combustion,  as  the  case  chances,  will  effectually  enough 
‘ annihilate  the  past  Forms  of  Society ; replace  them  with 
‘ what  it  may.  For  the  present,  it  is  contemplated  that  when 
‘ man’s  whole  Spiritual  Interests  are  once  divested , these  in- 

* numerable  stript-off  Garments  shall  mostly  be  burnt ; but 
‘ the  sounder  Rags  among  them  be  quilted  together  into  one 
‘ huge  Irish  watch-coat  for  the  defence  of  the  Body  only ! ’ — 
This,  we  think,  is  but  Job’s  news  to  the  humane  reader. 

‘Nevertheless/  cries  Teufelsdrockh,  ‘who  can  hinder  it; 
‘ who  is  there  that  can  clutch  into  the  wheel-spokes  of  Destiny, 
‘ and  say  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Time  : Turn  back,  I command 
‘ thee? — Wiser  were  it  that  we  yielded  to  the  Inevitable  and 
‘Inexorable,  and  accounted  even  this  the  best.’ 

Nay,  might  not  an  attentive  Editor,  drawing  his  own  infer- 
ences from  what  stands  written,  conjecture  that  Teufelsdrockh 
individually  had  yielded  to  this  same  ‘ Inevitable  and  Inexor- 
able ’ heartily  enough ; and  now  sat  waiting  the  issue,  with 
his  natural  diabolico-angelical  Indifference,  if  not  even  Placid- 
ity ? Did  we  not  hear  him  complain  that  the  World  was  a 
‘huge  Ragfair,’  and  the  ‘rags  and  tatters  of  old  Symbols’ 
were  raining  down  everywhere,  like  to  drift  him  in,  and  suffo- 
cate him?  What  with  those  ‘unhunted  Helots’  of  his;  and 
the  uneven  sic-vos-non-vobis  pressure,  and  hard-crashing  colli- 
sion he  is  pleased  to  discern  in  existing  things  ; what  with  the 
so  hateful  ‘ empty  Masks/  full  of  beetles  and  spiders,  yet  glar- 
ing out  on  him,  from  their  glass-eyes,  ‘ with  a ghastly  affecta^ 
tion  of  life,’ — we  feel  entitled  to  conclude  him  even  willing 
that  much  should  be  thrown  to  the  Devil,  so  it  w?ere  but  done 
gently  ! Safe  himself  in  that  ‘ Pinnacle  of  W'eissnichtwo,’  he 
would  consent,  with  a tragic  solemnity,  that  the  monster 
UTILITARIA,  held  back,  indeed,  and  moderated  by  nose- 
rings, halters,  foot-shackles,  and  every  conceivable  modifica- 


THE  PUCE  NIX. 


189 


tion  of  rope,  should  go  forth  to  do  her  work  ; — to  tread  down 
old  ruinous  Palaces  and  Temples,  with  her  broad  hoof,  till 
the  whole  were  trodden  down,  that  new  and  better  might  be 
built!  Eemarkable  in  this  point  of  view  are  the  following 
sentences. 

£ Society,’  says  he,  ‘ is  not  dead  : that  Carcass,  which  you  call 
‘ dead  Society,  is  but  her  mortal  coil  which  she  has  shuffled 
‘ off,  to  assume  a nobler ; she  herself,  through  perpetual 
‘ metamorphoses,  in  fairer  and  fairer  development,  has  to  live 
‘ till  Time  also  merge  in  Eternity.  Wheresoever  two  or  three 
‘ Living  Men  are  gathered  together,  there  is  Society ; or  there 
‘it  will  be,  with  its  cunning  mechanisms  and  stupendous 
‘structures,  overspreading  this  little  Globe,  and  reaching  up- 
‘ wards  to  Heaven  and  downwards  to  Gehenna : for  always, 
‘ under  one  or  the  other  figure  it  has  two  authentic  Revela- 
‘ tions,  of  a God  and  of  a Devil  ; the  Pulpit,  namely,  and  the 
‘ Gallows.’ 

Indeed,  we  already  heard  him  speak  of  ‘Religion,  in  un- 
noticed nooks,  weaving  for  herself  new  Vestures  ; ’ — Teufels- 
drockh  himself  being  one  of  the  loom-treadles  ? Elsewhere  he 
quotes  without  censure  that  strange  aphorism  of  Saint-Simon’s, 
concerning  which  and  whom  so  much  were  to  be  said  : ‘ L' age 
‘ d’or,  qii  une  aveugle  tradition  a place  j usqu’ici  dans  le  passe,  est 
cdevant  nous  ; The  golden  age,  which  a blind  tradition  has 
‘ hitherto  placed  in  the  Past,  is  Before  us.’ — But  listen  again  : 

‘ VThen  the  Phoenix  is  fanning  her  funeral  pyre,  will  there 
‘ not  be  sparks  flying  ! Alas,  some  millions  of  men,  and  among 
‘ them  such  as  a Napoleon,  have  already  been  licked  into  that 
‘ high-eddying  Flame,  and  like  moths  consumed  there.  Still 
‘also  have  we  to  fear  that  incautious  beards  will  get  singed. 

‘ For  the  rest,  in  what  year  of  grace  such  Phoenix-cremation 
‘ will  be  completed,  you  need  not  ask.  The  law  of  Persever- 
‘ ance  is  among  the  deepest  in  man  : by  nature  he  hates 
‘ change  ; seldom  will  he  quit  his  old  house  till  it  has  actually 
‘ fallen  about  his  ears.  Thus  have  I seen  Solemnities  linger 
‘ as  Ceremonies,  sacred  Symbols  as  idle  Pageants,  to  the  ex- 
‘ tent  of  three  hundred  years  and  more  after  all  life  and  sacred- 
‘ness  had  evaporated  out  of  them.  And  then,  finally,  what 


190 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ time  the  Phoenix  Death-Birth  itself  will  require,  depends  on 
‘unseen  contingencies. — Meanwhile,  would  Destiny  offer  Man- 
‘ kind  that  after,  say  two  centuries  of  convulsion  and  confla- 
gration, more  or  less  vivid,  the  fire-creation  should  be  accoru- 
* plished,  and  we  find  ourselves  again  in  a Living  Society,  and 
4 no  longer  fighting  but  working, — were  it  not  perhaps  prudent 
‘in  Mankind  to  strike  the  bargain?* 

Thus  is  Teufelsdrockh  content  that  old  sick  Society  should 
be  deliberately  burnt  (alas ! with  quite  other  fuel  than  spice- 
wood)  ; in  the  faith  that  she  is  a Phoenix ; and  that  a new 
heavenborn  young  one  will  rise  out  of  her  ashes ! We  our- 
selves, restricted  to  the  duty  of  Indicator  shall  forbear  com- 
mentary. Meanwhile,  will  not  the  judicious  reader  shake  his 
head,  and  reproachfully,  yet  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger,  say 
or  think  : From  a Doctor  utriusque  Juris , titular  Professor  in 
a University,  and  man  to  whom  hitherto,  for  his  services,  So- 
ciety, bad  as  she  is,  has  given  not  only  food  and  raiment  (of  a 
kind)  but  books,  tobacco  and  gukguk,  we  expected  more 
gratitude  to  his  benefactress ; and  less  of  a blind  trust  in  the 
future,  which  resembles  that  rather  of  a philosophical  Fatalist 
and  Enthusiast,  than  of  a solid  householder  paying  scot  and 
lot  in  a Christian  country. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OLD  CLOTHES. 

As  mentioned  above,  Teufelsdrockh,  though  a Sansculott- 
ist,  is  in  practice  probably  the  politest  man  extant : his  whole 
heart  and  life  are  penetrated  and  informed  with  the  spirit  of 
Politeness  : a noble  natural  Courtesy  shines  through  him, 
beautifying  his  vagaries  : like  sunlight,  making  a rosy-fingered, 
rainbow-dyed  Aurora  out  of  mere  aqueous  clouds ; nay, 
brightening  London-smoke  itself  into  gold  vapour,  as  from 
the  crucible  of  an  alchemist.  Hear  in  what  earnest  though 
fantastic  wise  he  expresses  himself  on  this  head  : 

‘ Shall  Courtesy  be  done  only  to  the  rich,  and  only  by  the 
‘ rich  ? In  Good-breeding,  which  differs,  if  at  all,  from  High- 


OLD  CLOTHES. 


191 


* breeding,  only  as  it  gracefully  remembers  the  rights  of  others, 

* rather  than  gracefully  insists  on  its  own  rights,  I discern  no 
4 special  connexion  with  wealth  or  birth  : but  rather  that  it  lies  in 
4 human  nature  itself,  and  is  due  from  all  men  towards  all 
4 men.  Of  a truth,  were  your  Schoolmaster  at  his  post,  and 
4 worth  any  thing  when  there,  this,  with  so  much  else,  would  be 
4 reformed.  Nay,  each  man  were  then  also  his  neighbour’s 
4 schoolmaster ; till  at  length  a rude-visaged,  unmannered 
4 Peasant  could  no  more  be  met  with,  than  a Peasant  unac- 
4 quainted  with  botanical  Physiology,  or  who  felt  not  that  the 
4 clod  he  broke  was  created  in  Heaven. 

4 For  whether  thou  bear  a sceptre  or  a sledge-hammer,  art 
4 thou  not  alive  ; is  not  this  thy  brother  alive  ? 44  There  is 

4 but  one  Temple  in  the  world,”  says  Novalis,  44  and  that  Tern- 
4 pie  is  the  Body  of  Man.  Nothing  is  holier  than  this  high 
4 Form.  Bending  before  men  is  a reverence  done  to  this  Rev- 
4 elation  in  the  Flesh.  We  touch  Heaven,  when  we  lay  our 
4 hands  on  a human  Body.” 

4 On  which  ground,  I would  fain  carry  it  farther  than  most 
4 do  ; and  whereas  the  English  Johnson  only  bowed  to  every 
4 Clergyman,  or  man  with  a shovel-hat,  I would  bow  to  every 
4 Man  with  any  sort  of  hat,  or  with  no  hat  whatever.  Is  he 
4 not  a Temple,  then  ; the  visible  Manifestation  and  Imper- 
4 sonation  of  the  Divinity  ? And  yet,  alas,  such  indiscrimi- 
4 nate  bowing  serves  not.  For  there  is  a Devil  dwells  in  man, 
4 as  well  as  a Divinity  ; and  too  often  the  bow  is  but  pocketed 
4 by  the  former.  It  would  go  to  the  pocket  of  Vanity  (which 
4 is  your  clearest  phasis  of  the  Devil,  in  these  times) ; therefore 
4 must  we  withhold  it. 

4 The  gladder  am  I,  on  the  other  hand,  to  do  reverence  to 
4 those  Shells  and  outer  Husks  of  the  Body,  wherein  no  devil- 
4 ish  passion  any  longer  lodges,  but  only  the  pure  emblem  and 
4 effigies  of  Man  : I mean,  to  Empty,  or  even  to  Cast  Clothes. 
4 Nay,  is  it  not  to  Clothes  that  most  men  do  reverence  : to  the 
4finefrogged  broad-cloth,  nowise  to  the  44  straddling  animal 
4 with  bandy  legs  ” which  it  holds,  and  makes  a Dignitary  of  ? 
4 Who  ever  saw  any  Lord  my-lorded  in  tattered  blanket,  fast- 
4 ened  with  wooden  skewer  ? Nevertheless,  I say,  there  is  in  such 


192 


SARTOR  RESARTUtS. 


‘ worship  a shade  of  hypocrisy,  a practical  deception  : fof 
‘ how  often  does  the  Body  appropriate  what  was  meant  for  the 
‘ Cloth  only  ! Whoso  would  avoid  Falsehood,  which  is  the 
* essence  of  all  Sin,  will  perhaps  see  good  to  take  a different 
‘ course.  That  reverence  which  cannot  act  without  obstruc- 
‘ tion  and  perversion  when  the  Clothes  are  full,  may  have  free 
‘ course  when  they  are  empty.  Even  as,  for  Hindoo  Worship- 
‘ pers,  the  Pagoda  is  not  less  sacred  than  the  God  ; so  do  I 
‘ too  worship  the  hollow  cloth  Garment  with  equal  fervour,  as 
4 when  it  contained  the  Man  ; nay,  with  more,  for  I now  fear 
‘ no  deception,  of  myself  or  of  others. 

‘Did  not  King  Toomtabard,  or,  in  other  words,  John  Balliol, 
‘reign  long  over  Scotland  ; the  man  John  Balliol  being  quite 
‘ gone,  and  only  the  “ Toom  Tabard  ” (Empty  Gown)  remain- 
‘ ing  ? What  still  dignity  dwells  in  a suit  of  Cast  Clothes ! 
‘ How  meekly  it  bears  its  honours ! No  haughty  looks,  no 
‘ scornful  gesture  : silent  and  serene,  it  fronts  the  world ; 
‘ neither  demanding  worship,  nor  afraid  to  miss  it.  The  Hat 
‘ still  carries  the  physiognomy  of  its  Head  : but  the  vanity 
‘ and  the  stupidity,  and  goose-speech  which  was  the  sign  of 
‘ these  two,  are  gone.  The  Coat-arm  is  stretched  out,  but 
‘ not  to  strike  ; the  Breeches,  in  modest  simplicity,  depend  at 
‘ ease,  and  now  at  last  have  a graceful  flow ; the  Waistcoat 
‘hides  no  evil  passion,  no  riotous  desire ; hunger  or  thirst  now 
‘ dwells  not  in  it.  Thus  all  is  purged  from  the  grossness  of 
‘ sense,  from  the  carking  cares  and  foul  vices  of  the  World  ; 
‘ and  rides  there,  on  its  Clothes-horse  ; as,  on  a Pegasus, 
‘ might  some  skyey  Messenger,  or  purified  Apparition,  visit- 
‘ ing  our  low  Earth. 

‘ Often,  while  I sojourned  in  that  monstrous  tuberosity  of 
‘ Civilized  Life,  the  Capital  of  England  ; and  meditated  and 
‘ questioned  Destiny,  under  that  ink-sea  of  vapour,  black, 
‘ thick,  and  multifarious  as  Spartan  broth  ; and  was  one  lone 
‘ Soul  amid  those  grinding  millions  ; — often  have  I turned  in- 
‘to  their  Old-Clothes  Market  to  worship.  With  awe-struck 
‘ heart  I walk  through  that  Monmouth  Street,  with  its  empty 
‘ Suits,  as  through  a Sanhedrim  of  stainless  Ghosts.  Silent 
‘are  they,  but  expressive  in  their  silence:  the  past  witnesses 


OLD  CLOTHES, 1 


193 


‘and  instruments  of  Woe  and  Joy,  of  Passions,  Virtues, 

‘ Crimes,  and  all  the  fathomless  tumult  of  Good  and  Evil  in 
‘ “the  Prison  men  call  Life.’"  Friends!  trust  not  the  heart  of 
‘ that  man  for  whom  old  Clothes  are  not  venerable.  Watch, 
‘too,  with  reverence,  that  bearded  Jewish  Highpriest,  who 
'with  hoarse  voice,  like  some  Angel  of  Doom,  summons  them 
‘from  the  four  winds!  On  his  head,  like  the  Pope,,  he  has 
‘ three  Hats, — a real  triple  tiara ; on  either  hand,  are  the 
‘ similitude  of  wings,  whereon  the  summoned  Garments  come 
‘to  alight ; and  ever,  as  he  slowly  cleaves  the  air,  sounds  forth 
‘ his  deep  fearful  note,  as  if  through  a trumpet  he  were  pro- 
‘ claiming : “ Ghosts  of  Life,  come  to  Judgment ! ” Reck  not, 
‘ye  fluttering  Ghosts  he  will  purify  you  in  his  Purgatory, 
‘ with  fire  and  with  water ; and,  one  day,  new-created  ye  shall 
‘reappear.  Oh!  let  him  in  whom  the  flame  of  Devotion  is 
‘ ready  to  go  out,  who  has  never  worshipped,  and  knows  not 
‘ what  to  worship,  pace  and  repace,  with  austerest  thought,  the 
‘ pavement  of  Monmouth  Street,  and  say  whether  his  heart 
‘and  his  eyes  still  continue  dry.  If  Field  Lane,  with  its  long 
‘ fluttering  rows  of  yellow  handkerchiefs,  be  a Dionysius’  Ear, 
‘where,  in  stifled  jarring  hubbub,  we  hear  the  Indictment 
‘ which  Poverty  and  Vice  bring  against  lazy  Wealth,  that  it 
‘has  left  them  there  cast  out  and  trodden  under  foot  of  Want, 
‘Darkness,  and  the  Devil, — then  is  Monmouth  Street  a Mirza’s 
‘ Hill,  where,  in  motley  vision,  the  whole  Pageant  of  Exist- 
ence passes  awfully  before  us;  with  its  wail  and  jubilee,  mad 
‘ loves  and  mad  hatreds,  church-bells  and  gallows-ropes,  farce- 
‘ tragedy,  beast-godhood, — the  Bedlam  of  Creation ! ’ 

To  most  men,  as  it  does  to  ourselves,  all  this  will  seem  over- 
charged. We  too  have  walked  through  Monmouth  Street ; 
but  with  little  feeling  of  ‘ Devotion : ’ probably  in  part  be- 
cause the  contemplative  process  is  so  fatally  broken  in  upon 
by  the  brood  of  mone}r-cliangers,  who  nestle  in  that  Church, 
and  importune  the  worshipper  with  merely  secular  proposals. 
Whereas  Teufelsdrockh  might  be  in  that  happy  middle-state, 
which  leaves  to  the  Clothes-broker  no  hope  either  of  sale  or 
of  purchase,  and  so  be  allowed  to  linger  there  without  moles- 
13 


194 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


tation. — Something  we  would  have  given  to  see  the  little  phil* 
osophical  figure,  with  its  steeple-hat  and  loose  flowing  skirts, 
and  eyes  in  a fine  frenzy,  ‘ pacing  and  repacing  in  austerest 
thought  ’ that  foolish  Street ; which  to  him  was  a true  Del- 
phic avenue,  and  supernatural  Whispering-gallery,  where  the 
‘ Ghost  of  Life ’ rounded  strange  secrets  in  his  ear.  O thou 
philosophic  Teufel  sdrockh,  that  listenest  while  others  only 
gabble,  and  with  thy  quick  tympanum  hearest  the  grass 
grow ! 

At  the  same  time  is  it  not  strange  that,  in  Paperbag  Docu- 
ments destined  for  an  English  Work,  there  exists  nothing  like 
an  authentic  diary  of  this  his  sojourn  in  London  ; and  of  his 
Meditations  among  the  Clothes-shops  only  the  obscurest  em- 
blematic shadows  ? Neither,  in  conversation  (for,  indeed,  he 
was  not  a man  to  pester  you  with  his  Travels),  have  we  heard 
him  more  than  allude  to  the  subject. 

For  the  rest,  however,  it  cannot  be  uninteresting  that  we 
here  find  how  early  the  significance  of  Clothes  had  dawned  on 
the  now  so  distinguished  Clothes-Professor.  Might  we  but 
fancy  it  to  have  been  even  in  Monmouth  Street,  at  the  bottom 
of  our  own  English  ‘ink-sea,’  that  this  remarkable  Volume 
first  took  being,  and  shot  forth  its  salient  point  in  his  soul, — 
as  in  Chaos  did  the  Egg  of  Eros,  one  day  to  be  hatched  into 
a Universe  ! 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

ORGANIC  FILAMENTS. 

For  us,  who  happen  to  live  while  the  World-Phoenix  is 
burning  herself,  and  burning  so  slowly  that,  as  Teufelsdrockh 
calculates,  it  were  a handsome  bargain  would  she  engage  to 
have  done  ‘within  two  centuries,’  there  seems  to  lie  but  an 
ashy  prospect.  Not  altogether  so,  however,  does  the  Profes- 
sor figure  it.  ‘In  the  living  subject,’  says  he,  ‘ change  is  wont 
€ to  be  gradual  : thus,  while  the  serpent  sheds  its  old  skin, 
‘ the  new  is  already  formed  beneath.  Little  knowest  thou  of 
‘ the  burning  of  a World-Phoenix,  who  fanciest  that  she  must 
‘ first  burn  out,  and  lie  as  a dead  cinereous  heap  ; and  there 


ORGANIC  FILAMENTS. 


195 


4 from  the  young  one  start  up  by  miracle,  and  fly  heavenward. 

4 Far  otherwise  ! In  that  Fire- whirlwind,  Creation  and  De- 
4 struction  proceed  together  ; ever  as  the  ashes  of  the  Old  are 
4 blown  about,  do  organic  filaments  of  the  New  mysteriously 
4 spin  themselves : and  amid  the  rushing  and  the  waving  of 

* the  Whirlwind-Element,  come  tones  of  a melodious  Death- 

* song,  which  end  not  but  in  tones  of  a more  melodious  Birth- 
song.  Nay,  look  into  the  Fire-whirlwind  with  thy  own  eyes, 

4 and  thou  wilt  see/  Let  us  actually  look,  then  : to  poor  in- 
dividuals, who  cannot  expect  to  live  two  centuries,  those  same 
organic  filaments,  mysteriously  spinning  themselves,  will  be 
the  best  part  of  the  spectacle.  First,  therefore,  this  of  Man- 
kind in  general : 

4 In  vain  thou  deniest  it,’  says  the  Professor ; 4 thou  art  my 
4 Brother.  Thy  very  Hatred,  thy  very  Envy,  those  foolish 
4 Lies  thou  tellest  of  me  in  thy  splenetic  humour  : what  is  all 
4 this  but  an  inverted  Sympathy?  Were  I a Steam-engine, 
4 wouldst  thou  take  the  trouble  to  tell  Lies  of  me  ? Not  thou  ! 
4 1 should  grind  all  unheeded,  whether  badly  or  well. 

4 Wondrous  truly  are  the  bonds  that  unite  us  one  and  all ; 
4 whether  by  the  soft  binding  of  Love,  or  the  iron  chaining  of 
4 Necessity,  as  we  like  to  choose  it.  More  than  once  have  I 
4 said  to  myself  of  some  perhaps  whimsically  strutting  Figure, 
4 such  as  provokes  whimsical  thoughts  : 44  "Wert  thou,  my 
4 little  Brotherkin,  suddenly  covered  up  within  the  largest 
4 imaginable  Glass-bell,— what  a thing  it  were,  not  for  thyself 
4 only  but  for  the  world  ! Post  Letters,  more  or  fewer,  from 
4 all  the  four  winds,  impinge  against  thy  Glass  walls,  but  have 
4 to  drop  unread  : neither  from  within  comes  there  question 
4 or  response  into  any  Postbag ; thy  Thoughts  fall  into  no 
4 friendly  ear  or  heart,  thy  Manufacture  into  no  purchasing 
4 hand  ; thou  art  no  longer  a circulating  venous-arterial  Heart, 
4 that,  taking  and  giving,  circulatest  through  all  Space  and  all 
4 Time  : there  has  a Hole  fallen  out  in  the  immeasurable,  uni- 
4 versal  W^orld-tissue,  which  must  be  darned  up  again  ! ” 

4 Such  venous-arterial  circulation,  of  Letters,  verbal  Mes- 
1 sages,  paper  and  other  Packages,  going  out  from  him  and 
4 coming  in,  are  a blood-circulation,  visible  to  the  eye  ; but 


196 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 the  finer  nervous  circulation,  by  which  all  things,  the  mi- 
nutest that  he  does,  minutely  influence  all  men,  and  the 
4 very  look  of  his  face  blesses  or  curses  whom  so  it  lights  on* 

4 and  so  generates  ever  new  blessing  or  new  cursing  : all  this 
4 you  cannot  see,  but  only  imagine.  I say,  there  is  not  a 
4 red  Indian,  hunting  by  Lake  Winnipic,  can  quarrel  with  his 
4 squaw,  but  the  whole  world  must  smart  for  it : will  not  the 
4 price  of  beaver  rise  ? It  is  a mathematical  fact  that  the  cast- 
4 ing  of  this  pebble  from  my  hand  alters  the  centre-of-gravity 
4 of  the  Universe. 

4 If  now  an  existing  generation  of  men  stand  so  woven  to- 
4 gether,  not  less  indissolubly  does  generation  with  genera- 
4 tion.  Hast  thou  ever  meditated  on  that  word,  Tradition  : 
4 how  we  inherit  not  Life  only,  but  all  the  garniture  and  form 
4 of  Life  ; and  work,  and  speak,  and  even  think  and  feel,  as 
4 our  Fathers,  and  primeval  grandfathers,  from  the  beginning, 
4 have  given  it  us  ? — Who  printed  thee,  for  example,  this  un- 
4 pretending  Volume  on  the  Philosophy  of  Clothes  ? Not  the 
4 Herren  Stillschweigen  and  Company : but  Cadmus  of 
4 Thebes,  Faust  of  Mentz,  and  innumerable  others  whom  thou 
4 knowest  not.  Had  there  been  no  Mcesogothic  Ulfila,  there 
4 had  been  no  English  Shakspeare,  or  a different  one.  Sim- 
4 pleton ! it  was  Tubalcain  that  made  thy  very  Tailor’s  needle, 
4 and  sewed  that  court  suit  of  thine. 

4 Yes,  truly,  if  Nature  is  one,  and  a living  indivisible  whole, 
4 much  more  is  Mankind,  the  Image  that  reflects  and  creates 
4 Nature,  without  which  Nature  were  not.  As  palpable  lifie- 
4 streams  in  that  wondrous  Individual  Mankind,  among  so 
4 many  life-streams  that  are  not  palpable,  flow-on  those  rnain- 
4 currents  of  what  we  call  Opinion  ; as  preserved  in  Institu- 
4 tions,  Politics,  Churches,  above  all  in  Books.  Beautiful  it  is 
4 to  understand  and  know  that  a Thought  did  never  yet  die  ; 
4 that  as  thou,  the  originator  thereof,  hast  gathered  it  and 
4 created  it  from  the  whole  Past,  so  thou  wilt  transmit  it  io 
4 the  whole  Future.  It  is  thus  that  the  heroic  Heart,  the  see- 
4 ing  Eye  of  the  first  times,  still  feels  and  sees  in  us  of  the 
4 latest ; that  the  Wise  Man  stands  ever  encompassed,  and 
4 spiritually  embraced,  by  a cloud  of  witnesses  and  brothers  ; 


ORGANIC  FILAMENTS. 


197 


* and  tliere  is  a living,  literal  Communion  of  Saints,  wide  as 
‘the  "World  itself,  and  as  the  History  of  the  World. 

4 Noteworthy  also,  and  serviceable  for  the  progress  of  this 
4 same  Individual,  wilt  thou  find  his  subdivision  into  Genera- 
4 tions.  Generations  are  as  the  Days  of  toilsome  Mankind  ; 
4 Death  and  Birth  are  the  vesper  and  the  matin  bells,  that 
4 summon  Mankind  to  sleep,  and  to  rise  refreshed  for  new 
4 advancement.  What  the  Father  has  made,  the  Son  can 
4 make  and  enjoy  ; but  has  also  work  of  his  own  appointed 
4 him.  Thus  all  things  wax,  and  roll  onwards  ; Arts,  Estab- 
4 lishments,  Opinions,  nothing  is  completed,  but  ever  com- 
4 pleting.  Newton  has  learned  to  see  what  Kepler  saw  ; but 
4 there  is  also  a fresh  heaven-derived  force  in  Newton  ; he 
4 must  mount  to  still  higher  points  of  vision.  So  to  the  He- 
4 brew  Lawgiver  is,  in  due  time,  followed  by  an  Apostle  of  the 
4 Gentiles.  In  the  business  of  Destruction,  as  this  also  is 
4 from  time  to  time  a necessary  work,  thou  findest  a like 
e sequence  and  perseverance  : for  Luther  it  was  as  yet  hot 
4 enough  to  stand  by  that  burning  of  the  Pope’s  Bull ; Vol- 
4 taire  could  not  warm  himself  at  the  glimmering  ashes,  but 
4 required  quite  other  fuel.  Thus  likewise,  I note,  the  Eng- 
4 lish  Whig  has,  in  the  second  generation,  become  an  English 
4 Kadical ; who,  in  the  third  again,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  be- 
come an  English  Bebuilder.  Find  mankind  where  thou 
4 wilt,  thou  findest  it  in  living  movement,  in  progress  faster  or 
4 slower : the  Phoenix  soars  aloft,  hovers  with  outstretched 
4 wings,  filling  Earth  with  her  music  ; or,  as  now,  she  sinks, 

* and  with  spheral  swan-song  immolates  herself  in  flame,  that 
4 she  may  soar  the  higher  and  sing  the  clearer.’ 

Let  the  friends  of  social  order,  in  such  a disastrous  period, 
lay  this  to  heart,  and  derive  from  it  any  little  comfort  they 
can.  We  subjoin  another  passage,  concerning  Titles : 

4 Remark,  not  without  surprise,’  says  Teufelsdrockh,  4 how 
4 all  high  Titles  of  Honour  come  hitherto  from  Fighting.  Your 
4 Herzog  (Duke,  Dux)  is  Leader  of  Armies  ; your  Earl  ( Jarl ) is 
4 Strong  Man  ; your  Marshal  cavalry  Horse-shoer.  A Millen- 
4 nium,  or  reign  of  Peace  and  Wisdom,  having  from  of  old 
4 been  prophesied,  and  becoming  now'  daily  more  and  more 


BART  Oil  RESARTUS. 


198- 

6 indubitable,  may  it  not  be  apprehended  that  such  Fighting- 
‘ titles  will  cease  to  be  palatable,  and  new  and  higher  need  to 
‘ be  devised  ? 

‘ The  only  Title  wherein  I,  with  confidence,  trace  eternity, 
‘ is  that  of  King.  Konig  (King),  anciently  Konning  means 
* Kenning  (Cunning),  or  which  is  the  same  thing,  Can-ning. 
‘ Ever  must  the  Sovereign  of  Mankind  be  fitly  entitled 
‘ King.’ 

4 Well,  also,’  says  he  elsewhere, ‘ was  it  written  by  Theolo- 
£ gians  : a King  rules  by  divine  right.  He  carries  in  him  an 
6 authority  from  God,  or  man  will  never  give  it  him.  Can  I 
£ choose  my  own  King  ? I can  choose  my  own  King  Popinjay, 
‘ and  play  what  farce  or  tragedy  I may  with  him  : but  he  who 
( is  to  be  my  Euler,  whose  will  is  to  be  higher  than  my  will, 
£ was  chosen  for  me  in  Heaven.  Neither  except  in  such  Obe- 
‘ dience  to  the  Heaven-chosen  is  Freedom  so  much  as  con- 
‘ ceivable.’ 

The  Editor  will  here  admit  that,  among  all  the  wondrous 
provinces  of  Teufelsdrockli’s  spiritual  world,  there  is  none  he 
walks  in  with  such  astonishmeut,  hesitation,  and  even  pain,  as 
in  the  Political.  How,  with  our  English  love  of  Ministry  and 
Opposition,  and  that  generous  conflict  of  Parties,  mind  warm- 
ing itself  against  mind  in  their  mutual  wrestle  for  the  Public 
Good,  by  which  wrestle,  indeed,  is  our  invaluable  Constitution 
kept  warm  and  alive;  how  shall  we  domesticate  ourselves  in 
this  spectral  Necropolis,  or  rather  City  both  of  the  Dead  and 
of  the  Unborn,  wdiere  the  Present  seems  little  other  than  an 
inconsiderable  Film  dividing  the  Past  and  the  Future  ? In 
those  dim  longdrawn  expanses,  all  is  so  immeasurable ; much 
so  disastrous,  ghastly  ; your  very  radiances,  and  straggling 
light-beams,  have  a supernatural  character.  And  then  with 
such  an  indifference,  such  a prophetic  peacefulness  (account- 
ing the  inevitably-coming  as  already  here,  to  him  all  one 
Avhether  it  be  distant  by  centuries  or  only  by  days),  does  he 
sit ; — and  live,  you  would  say,  rather  in  any  other  age  than 
his  own  ! It  is  our  painful  duty  to  announce,  or  repeat,  that, 
looking  into  this  man,  we  discern  a deep,  silent,  slow-burning, 


ORGANIC  FILAMENTS, 


199 


inextinguishable  Radicalism,  such  as  fills  us  with  shuddering 
admiration. 

Thus,  for  example,  he  appears  to  make  little  even  of  the  Elec- 
tive Franchise  ; at  least  so  we  interpret  the  following  : ‘ Sat- 
‘ isfy  yourselves/  he  says,  ‘ by  universal,  indubitable  experi- 
‘ ment,  even  as  ye  are  now  doing  or  will  do,  whether  Freedom, 
‘ heavenborn  and  leading  heavenward,  and  so  vitally  essential 
‘ for  us  all,  cannot  peradventure  be  mechanically  hatched  and 
‘ brought  to  light  in  that  same  Ballot-Box  of  yours ; or  at  worst 
‘ in  some  other  discoverable  or  devisable  Box,  Edifice,  or  Sfceam- 
‘ mechanism.  It  were  a mighty  convenience  ; and  beyond  all 
‘ feats  of  manufacture  witnessed  hitherto/  Is  Teufelsdrockh 
acquainted  with  the  British  Constitution,  even  slightly  ? — He 
says,  under  another  figure  : ‘ But  after  all,  were  the  problem, 
‘ as  indeed  it  now  everywhere  is,  To  rebuild  your  old  House 
‘ from  the  top  downwards  (since  you  must  live  in  it  the  while), 
‘ what  better,  what  other,  than  the  Representative  Machine 
‘ will  serve  your  turn  ? Meanwhile,  however,  mock  me  not 
‘ with  the  name  of  Free,  “ when  you  have  but  knit  up  my 
‘ chains  into  ornamental  festoons/’  ’ — Or  what  will  any  mem- 
ber of  the  Peace  Society  make  of  such  an  assertion  as  this : 
‘ The  lower  people  everywhere  desire  War.  Not  so  unwisely  ; 
‘ there  is  then  a demand  for  lower  people — to  be  shot ! ’ 

Gladly,  therefore,  do  we  emerge  form  those  soul-confusing 
labyrinths  of  speculative  Radicalism,  into  somewhat  clearer 
regions.  Here,  looking  round,  as  was  our  hest,  for  ‘ organic 
filaments/  we  ask,  may  not  this,  touching  c Hero-Worship/ 
be  of  the  number?  It  seems  of  a cheerful  character  ; yet  so 
quaint,  so  mystical,  one  knows  not  what,  or  how  little,  may 
lie  under  it.  Our  readers  shall  look  with  their  own  eyes  : 

‘ True  is  it  that,  in  these  days,  man  can  do  almost  all  things, 
‘ only  not  obey.  True  likewise  that  whoso  cannot  obey  can- 
‘ not  be  free,  still  less  bear  rule  ; he  that  is  the  inferior  of 

* nothing,  can  be  superior  of  nothing,  the  equal  of  nothing. 

* Nevertheless,  believe  not  that  man  has  lost  his  faculty  of  Rev- 
c erence  ; that  if  it  slumber  in  him,  it  has  gone  dead.  Pain- 
‘ ful  for  man  is  that  same  rebellious  Independence,  when  it  has 

* become  inevitable  ; only  in  loving  companionship  with  his 


200 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ fellows  does  he  feel  safe  ; only  in  reverently  bowing  down 
‘ before  the  Higher  does  he  feel  himself  exalted. 

‘ Or  what  if  the  character  of  our  so  troublous  Era  lay  even  in 
‘ this : that  man  had  forever  cast  away  Fear,  which  is  the 
‘ lower ; but  not  yet  risen  into  perennial  Beverence,  which  is 
‘ the  higher  and  highest  ? 

‘ Meanwhile,  observe  with  joy,  so  cunningly  has  Nature 
‘ ordered  it,  that  whatsoever  man  ought  to  obey  he  cannot  but 
‘ obey.  Before  no  faintest  revelation  of  the  Godlike  did  he 
‘ ever  stand  irreverent ; least  of  all,  when  the  Godlike  shewed 
‘ itself  revealed  in  his  fellow-man.  Thus  is  there  a true  relig- 
‘ ious  Loyalty  forever  rooted  in  his  heart ; nay,  in  all  ages, 
‘ even  in  ours,  it  manifests  itself  as  a more  or  less  orthodox 
■ Hero-worship.  In  which  fact,  that  Hero-worship  exists,  has 
‘ existed,  and  will  for  ever  exist,  universally  among  Mankind, 
‘ mayest  thou  discern  the  corner-stone  of  living-rock,  whereon 
‘ all  Polities  for  the  remotest  time  may  stand  secure.’ 

Do  our  readers  discern  any  such  corner-stone,  or  even  so 
much  as  what  Teufelsdrockh  is  looking  at?  He  exclaims, 
‘ Or  hast  thou  forgotten  Paris  and  Voltaire  ? How  the  aged, 
‘ withered  man,  though  but  a Sceptic,  Mocker,  and  millinery 
‘ Court-poet,  yet  because  even  he  seemed  the  Wisest,  Best, 
‘ could  drag  mankind  at  his  chariot-wheels,  so  that  princes 
‘ coveted  a smile  from  him,  and  the  loveliest  of  France  would 
c have  laid  their  hair  beneath  his  feet ! All  Paris  was  one  vast 

* Temple  of  Hero-worship  ; though  their  Divinity,  moreover, 
c was  of  feature  too  apish. 

£ But  if  such  things/  continues  he,  ‘ were  done  in  the  dry 
c tree,  what  will  be  done  in  the  green  ? If,  in  the  most  parched 
£ season  of  Man’s  History,  in  the  most  parched  spot  of  Europe, 

* when  Parisian  life  was  at  best  but  a scientific  Hortus  Siccus , 
‘ bedizened  with  some  Italian  Gumflowers,  such  virtue  could 
‘ come  out  of  it ; what  is  to  be  looked  for  when  Life  again 
‘ wTaves  leafy  and  bloomy,  and  your  Hero-Divinity  shall  have 
‘ nothing  apelike,  but  be  wholly  human  ? Know  that  there  is 
‘ in  man  a quite  indestructible  Beverence  for  whatsoever  holds 
( of  Heaven,  or  even  plausibly  counterfeits  such  holding. 

‘ Shew  the  dullest  clodpole,  shew  the  haughtiest  featherhead, 


ORGANIC  FILAMENTS . 


201 


c that  a soul  Higher  than  himself  is  actually  here  ; were  his 

* knees  stiffened  into  brass,  he  must  down  and  worship.’ 

Organic  filaments,  of  a more  authentic  sort,  mysteriously 
spinning  themselves,  some  will  perhaps  discover  in  the  follow- 
ing passage : 

£ There  is  no  Church,  sayest  thou  ? The  voice  of  Prophecy 
‘ has  gone  dumb  ? This  is  even  what  I dispute  : but,  in  any 
£ case,  hast  thou  not  still  Preaching  enough  ? A Preaching 
£ Friar  settles  himself  in  every  village  ; and  builds  a pulpit, 
£ which  he  calls  Newspaper.  Therefrom  he  preaches  what 
£ most  momentous  doctrine  is  in  him,  for  man’s  salvation  ; 
£ and  dost  not  thou  listen,  and  believe  ? Look  well,  thou  seest 
£ everywhere  a new  Clergy  of  the  Mendicant  Orders,  some 
£ bare-footed,  some  almost  bare-backed,  fashion  itself  into 
£ shape,  and  teach  and  preach,  zealously  enough,  for  copper 
£ alms  and  the  love  of  God.  These  break  in  pieces  the  ancient 
£ idols  ; and,  though  themselves  too  often  reprobate,  as  idol- 
£ breakers  are  wont  to  be,  mark  out  the  sites  of  new  Churches, 
6 -where  the  true  God-ordained,  that  are  to  follow,  may  find 
£ audience,  and  minister.  Said  I not,  Before  the  old  skin  was 
£ shed,  the  new  had  formed  itself  beneath  it  ? ’ 

Perhaps,  also,  in  the  following  ; wherewith  we  now  hasten 
to  knit  up  this  ravelled  sleeve  ; 

6 But  there  is  no  Religion  ? ’ reiterates  the  Professor. 
£ Fool ! I tell  thee,  there  is.  Hast  thou  well  considered  all 
£ that  lies  in  this  immeasurable  froth-ocean  we  name  Litera- 
‘ ture?  Fragments  of  a genuine  Church -Homiletic  lie  scat- 
£ tered  there,  which  Time  will  assort : nay  fractions  even  of  a 
£ Liturgy  could  I point  out.  And  knowest  thou  no  Prophet, 
‘ even  in  the  vesture,  environment,  and  dialect  of  this  age  ? 
£ None  to  whom  the  Godlike  had  revealed  itself,  through  all 

* meanest  and  highest  forms  of  the  Common  ; and  by  him 
£ been  again  prophetically  revealed  : in  whose  inspired  melody, 
‘ even  in  these  rag-gathering  and  rag-burning  days,  Man’s 
£ Life  again  begins,  were  it  but  afar  off,  to  be  divine  ? Know- 
‘ est  thou  none  such  ? I know  him,  and  name  him — Goethe. 

£ But  thou  as  yet  stand  est  in  no  Temple  ; joinest  in  no 
4 Psalm-worship  ; f eelest  well  that,  where  there  is  no  minister- 


202 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


1 ing  Priest,  the  people  perish  ? Be  of  comfort ! Thou  art 
‘ not  alone,  if  thou  have  Faith.  Spake  we  not  of  a Commun- 
‘ ion  of  Saints,  unseen,  yet  not  unreal,  accompanying  and 
‘ brother-like  embracing  thee,  so  thou  be  worthy  ? Their 
‘ heroic  Sufferings  rise  up  melodiously  together  to  Heaven, 

* out  of  all  lands,  and  out  of  all  times,  as  a sacred  Miserere  ; 

* their  heroic  Actions  also,  as  a boundless,  everlasting  Psalm 
‘ of  Triumph.  Neither  say  that  thou  hast  now  no  Symbol  of 
‘ the  Godlike.  Is  not  God’s  Universe  a Symbol  of  the  God* 

* like  ; is  not  Immensity  a Temple  ; is  not  Man’s  History,  and 
‘ Men’s  History,  a perpetual  Evangel  ? Listen,  and  for  organ- 
4 music  thou  wilt  ever,  as  of  old,  hear  the  Morning  Stars  sing 

* together.’ 


CHAPTER  YIH. 

NATURAL  SUPERNATURALISM. 

It  is  in  his  stupendous  Section,  headed  Natural  Super - 
naturalism , that  the  Professor  first  becomes  a Seer  ; and,  after 
long  effort,  such  as  we  have  witnessed,  finally  subdues  under 
his  feet  this  refractory  Clothes-Philosophy,  and  takes  victori- 
ous possession  thereof.  Phantasms  enough  he  has  had 
to  struggle  with  ; c Cloth-webs  and  Cob-webs,’  of  Imperial 
Mantles,  Superannuated  Symbols,  and  what  not : yet  still  did 
he  courageously  pierce  through.  Nay,  worst  of  all,  two  quite 
mysterious,  world-embracing  Phantasms,  Time  and  Space,  have 
ever  hovered  round  him,  perplexing  and  bewildering  : but 
with  these  also  he  now  resolutely  grapples,  these  also  he  vic- 
toriously rends  asunder.  In  a word,  he  has  looked  fixedly  on 
Existence,  till,  one  after  the  other,  its  earthly  hulls  and  garni- 
tures have  all  melted  away  ; and  now,  to  his  rapt  vision,  the 
interior  celestial  Holy  of  Holies  lies  disclosed. 

Here  therefore  properly  it  is  that  the  Philosophy  of  Clothes 
attains  to  Transcendentalism  ; this  last  leap,  can  we  but  clear 
it,  takes  us  safe  into  the  promised  land,  where  Palingenesia , in 
all  senses,  may  be  considered  as  beginning.  4 Courage,  then  ! ’ 
may  our  Diogenes  exclaim,  with  better  right  than  Diogenes 
the  First  once  did.  This  stupendous  Section  we,  after  long 


NATURAL  SUPERNATURALISM. 


203 


painful  meditation,  have  found  not  to  be  unintelligible  ; but 
on  the  contrary  to  grow  clear,  nay  radiant,  and  all-illuminat- 
ing. Let  the  reader,  turning  on  it  what  utmost  force  of  spec- 
ulative intellect  is  in  him,  do  his  part ; as  we,  by  judicious 
selection  and  adjustment,  shall  study  to  do  ours  : 

‘ Deep  has  been,  and  is,  the  significance  of  Miracles,’  thus 
quietly  begins  the  Professor  ; ‘ far  deeper  perhaps  than  we 
‘ imagine.  Meanwhile,  the  question  of  questions  were  : What 
‘ specially  is  a Miracle  ? To  that  Dutch  King  of  Siam,  an 
‘ icicle  had  been  a miracle  ; whoso  had  carried  with  him  an 
‘ air-pump,  and  vial  of  vitriolic  ether,  might  have  worked  a 
‘ a miracle.  To  my  horse  again,  who  unhappily  is  still  more 
•'  unscientific,  do  not  I work  a miracle,  and  magical  “ Open 
4 sesame  ! ” every  time  I please  to  pay  twopence,  and  open  for 
‘ him  an  impassible  Schlagbaum , or  shut  Turnpike  ? 

‘ “But  is  not  a real  Miracle  simply  a violation  of  the  Laws 
‘ of  Nature? ” ask  several.  Whom  I answer  by  this  new  ques- 
‘ tion : What  are  the  Laws  of  Nature  ? To  me  perhaps  the 
‘ rising  of  one  from  the  dead  were  no  violation  of  these  Laws, 
‘but  a confirmation;  were  some  far  deeper  Law,  now  first 
‘penetrated  into,  and  by  Spiritual  Force,  even  as  the  rest 
‘have  all  been,  brought  to  bear  on  us  with  its  Material 
‘ Force. 

‘Here  too  may  some  inquire,  not  without  astonishment: 
‘ On  what  ground  shall  one,  that  can  make  Iron  swim,  come 
‘ and  declare  that  therefore  he  can  teach  Beligion  ? To  us, 
‘ truly,  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  such  declaration  were  inept 
‘ enough ; which  nevertheless  to  our  fathers,  of  the  First  Cen- 
‘ tury,  was  full  of  meaning. 

‘ “But  is  it  not  the  deepest  Law  of  Nature  that  she  be  con- 
stant?” cries  an  illuminated  class:  “Is  not  the  Machine  of 
‘ the  Universe  fixed  to  move  by  unalterable  rules  ? ” Probable 
‘ enough,  good  friends  : nay,  I too  must  believe  that  the  God, 
; whom  ancient  inspired  men  assert  to  be  “without  variable- 
‘ ness  or  shadow  of  turning,”  does  indeed  never  change  ; that 
‘ Nature,  that  the  Universe,  which  no  one  whom  it  so1  pleases 
‘ can  be  prevented  from  calling  a Machine,  does  move  by  the 
‘ most  unalterable  rules.  And  now  of  you  too  I make  the  old 


204 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ inquiry : What  those  same  unalterable  rules,  forming  the 
‘ complete  Statute-Book  of  Nature,  may  possibly  be? 

‘ They  stand  written  in  our  Works  of  Science,  say  you  ; in 
‘the  accumulated  records  of  man’s  Experience? — Was  Man 
c with  his  Experience  present  at  the  Creation,  then,  to  see  how 
‘ it  all  went  on  ? Have  any  deepest  scientific  individuals  yet 
‘ dived  down  to  the  foundations  of  the  Universe,  and  gauged 
‘every  thing  there?  Did  the  Maker  take  them  into  His 
‘ counsel ; that  they  read  His  ground-plan  of  the  ineompre- 
‘ liensible  All ; and  can  say,  This  stands  marked  therein,  and 
‘no  more  than  this?  Alas!  not  in  anywise  ! These  scientific 
‘ individuals  have  been  nowhere  but  where  we  also  are  ; have 
‘ seen  some  handbreadths  deeper  than  we  see  into  the  Deep 
‘ that  is  infinite,  without  bottom  as  without  shore. 

‘ Laplace’s  Book  on  the  Stars,  wherein  he  exhibits  that  cer- 
‘ tain  Planets,  with  their  Satellites,  gyrate  round  our  worthy 
‘ Sun,  at  a rate  and  in  a course,  which,  by  greatest  good  for- 
‘ tune,  he  and  the  like  of  him  have  succeeded  in  detecting, — 
‘ is  to  me  as  precious  as  to  another.  But  is  this  what  thou 
‘namest  “Mechanism  of  the  Heavens,”  and  “System  of  the 
‘World;”  this,  wherein  Sirius  and  the  Pleiades,  and  all  Her- 
‘ schel’s  Fifteen  thousand  Suns  per  minute,  being  left  out, 
‘ some  paltry  handful  of  Moons,  and  inert  Balls,  had  been — 
‘ looked  at,  nicknamed,  and  marked  in  the  Zodiacal  Waybill ; 
‘ so  that  we  can  now  prate  of  their  Whereabout ; their  How, 
‘ their  Why,  their  What,  being  hid  from  us  as  in  the  signless 
‘ Inane  ? 

‘ System  of  Nature ! To  the  wisest  man,  wide  as  is  hid 
‘ vision,  Nature  remains  of  quite  infinite  depth,  of  quite  infinite 
‘ expansion  ; and  all  Experience  thereof  limits  itself  to  soma 
‘ few  computed  centuries,  and  measured  square  miles.  The 
‘course  of  Nature’s  phases,  on  this  our  little  fraction  of  a 
‘ Planet,  is  partially  known  to  us  : but  who  knows  what  deeper 
‘ courses  these  depend  on ; what  infinitely  larger  Cycle  (of 
‘ causes)  our  little  Epicycle  revolves  on  ? To  the  Minnow 
‘ every  cranny  and  pebble,  and  quality  and  accident,  of  its 
‘ little  native  Creek  may  have  become  familiar  : but  does  the 
‘ Minnow  understand  the  Ocean  Tides  and  periodic  Currents, 


NATURAL  SUPERNATURALISM. 


205 


* the  Trade-winds,  and  Monsoons,  and  Moon’s  Eclipses ; by  all 
‘ which  the  condition  of  its  little  Creek  is  regulated,  and  may, 
1 from  time  to  time  ( ^miraculously  enough),  be  quite  overset 
‘ and  reversed  ? Such  a minnow  is  man  ; his  Creek  this 
‘ Planet  Earth ; his  Ocean  the  immeasurable  All ; his  Mon- 
‘ soons  and  periodic  Currents  the  mysterious  Course  of  Provi- 
‘ dence  through  iEons  of  iEons. 

4 We  speak  of  the  Volume  of  Nature  : and  truly  a Volume 
‘ it  is, — whose  Author  and  Writer  is  God.  To  read  it ! Dost 

* thou,  does  man,  so  much  as  well  know  the  Alphabet  thereof? 
‘With  its  Words,  Sentences,  and  grand  descriptive  Pages, 
‘ poetical  and  philosophical,  spread  out  through  Solar  Systems, 
‘ and  Thousand’s  of  Years,  we  shall  not  try  thee.  It  is  a Vol- 
‘ ume  written  in  celestial  hieroglyphs,  in  the  true  Sacred- writ- 
‘ ing  ; of  which  even  Prophets  are  happy  that  they  can  read 
‘ here  a line  and  there  a line.  As  for  your  Institutes,  and 
‘ Academies  of  Science,  they  strive  bravely ; and,  from  amid 
‘ the  thick  - crowded,  inextricably  intertwisted  hieroglyphic 
‘writing,  pick  out,  by  dexterous  combination,  some  Letters 
‘ in  the  vulgar  Character,  and  therefrom  jDut  together  this  and 
‘ the  other  economic  Recipe,  of  high  avail  in  Practice.  That 
‘ Nature  is  more  than  some  boundless  Volume  of  such  Recipes, 
‘ or  huge,  well-nigh  inexhaustible  Domestic  Cookery  Book,  of 
‘ which  the  whole  secret  will  in  this  manner  one  day  evolve  it- 
‘ self,  the  fewest  dream. 

‘Custom,’  continues  the  Professor,  ‘doth  make  dotards  of 
‘us  all.  Consider  well,  thou  wilt  find  that  Custom  is  the 
‘greatest  of  Weavers;  and  weaves  airy  raiment  for  all  the 
‘ Spirits  of  the  Universe  ; whereby  indeed  these  dwell  with 
‘ us  visibly,  as  ministering  servants,  in  our  houses  and  work- 
‘ shops  ; but  their  spiritual  nature  becomes,  to  the  most,  for- 
ever hidden.  Philosophy  complains  that  Custom  has  liood- 
‘ winked  us,  from  the  first ; that  we  do  every  thing  by 
‘ Custom,  even  Believe  by  it ; that  our  very  Axioms,  let  us 
‘boast  of  Free-thinking  as  we  may,  are  oftenest  simply  such 
‘Beliefs  as  we  have  never  heard  questioned.  Nay,  what  is 
‘ Philosophy  throughout  but  a continual  battle  against  Cus- 


206 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


‘tom ; an  ever-renewed  effort  to  transcend  the  sphere  of  blind 
‘Custom,  and  so  become  Transcendental? 

‘Innumerable  are  the  illusions  and  legerdemain  tricks  of 
‘ Custom  : but  of  all  these  perhaps  the  cleverest  is  her  knack 
‘ of  persuading  us  that  the  Miraculous,  by  simple  repetition, 
‘ ceases  to  be  Miraculous.  True,  it  is  by  this  means  we  live  ; 
‘for  man  must  work  as  well  as  wonder:  and  herein  is  Cus- 
‘ tom  so  far  a kind  nurse,  guiding  him  to  his  true  benefit. 
‘ But  she  is  a fond  foolish  nurse,  or  rather  we  are  false  foolish 
‘nurslings,  when  in  our  resting  and  reflecting  hours,  we  pro- 
long the  same  deception.  Am  I to  view  the  Stupendous 
‘ with  stupid  indifference,  because  I have  seen  it  twice,  or  two 
‘ hundred,  or  two  million  times  ? There  is  no  reason  in  Na- 
‘ ture  or  in  Art  why  I should  : unless  indeed,  I am  a mere 
‘Work-Machine,  for  whom  the  divine  gift  of  Thought  were  no 
‘ other  than  the  terrestrial  gift  of  Steam  is  to  the  Steam-en- 
‘ gine  ; a power  wdiereby  Cotton  might  be  spun,  and  money 
‘ and  money’s  worth  realised. 

‘ Notable  enough  too,  here  as  elsewhere,  wilt  thou  find  the 
‘potency  of  Names;  which  indeed  are  but  one  kind  of  such 
‘Custom-woven,  wonder-hiding  Garments.  Witchcraft,  and 
‘ all  manner  of  Spectre-work,  and  Demonology,  we  have  now 
‘named  Madness,  and  Diseases  of  the  Nerves.  Seldom  re- 
‘ fleeting  that  still  the  new  question  comes  upon  us  : What  is 
‘Madness,  what  are  Nerves?  Ever,  as  before,  does  Madness 
‘remain  a mysterious-terrific,  altogether  infernal  boiling  up 
‘ of  the  Nether  Chaotic  Deep,  through  this  fair-painted  Vision 
‘of  Creation,  wiiich  swims  thereon,  which  we  name  the  Beal. 
‘ Was  Luther’s  Picture  of  the  Devil  less  a Beality,  whether  it 
‘were  formed  within  the  bodily  eye,  or  without  it?  In  every 
5 the  wisest  soul  lies  a whole  world  of  internal  Madness,  an 
‘ authentic  Demon-Empire  ; out  of  which,  indeed,  his  world 
‘ of  Wisdom  has  been  creatively  built  together,  and  nowT  rests 
‘ there,  as  on  its  dark  foundations  does  a habitable  flowery 
‘Earth-rind. 

‘But  deepest  of  all  illusory  Appearances,  for  hiding  Won* 
‘ der,  as  for  many  other  ends,  are  your  two  grand  fundament 


NATURAL  SUPERNATURALISM. 


207 


* tal  world-enveloping  Appearances,  Space  and  Time.  These, 
‘ as  spun  and  woven  for  us  from  before  Birth  itself,  to  clothe 
‘our  celestial  Me  for  dwelling  here,  and  yet  to  blind  it,— lie 
f all-embracing,  as  the  universal  canvas,  or  warp  and  woof, 
‘whereby  all  minor  Illusions,  in  this  Phantasm  Existence, 
‘weave  and  paint  themselves.  In  vain,  while  here  on  Earth, 
‘ shall  you  endeavour  to  strip  them  off ; you  can,  at  best,  but 
‘rend  them  asunder  for  moments,  and  look  through. 

‘Fortunatus  had  a wishing  Hat,  which  when  he  put  on,  and 
‘ wished  himself  Anywhere,  behold  he  was  there.  By  this 
‘ means  had  Fortunatus  triumphed  over  Space,  he  had  anni- 
hilated Space;  for  him  there  was  no  Where,  but  all  was 
‘Here.  Were  a Hatter  to  establish  himself,  in  the  Wahn- 
‘ gasse  of  Weissnichtwo,  and  make  felts  of  this  sort  for  all 
‘mankind,  what  a world  we  should  have  of  it ! Still  stranger, 
‘ should,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  another  Hatter 
‘establish  himself  ; and,  as  his  fellow- craftsman  made  Space- 
‘ annihilating  Hats,  make  Time  annihilating  ! Of  both  would 
‘ I purchase,  were  it  with  my  last  groschen  ; but  chiefly  of  this 
‘latter.  To  clap  on  your  felt,  and,  simply  by  wishing  that 
‘ you  were  Any  where,  straightway  to  be  There  ! Next  to  clap 
‘ on  your  other  felt,  and  simply  by  wishing  that  you  were  Any- 
‘ when,  and  straightway  to  be  Then!  This  wTere  indeed  the 
‘ grander : shooting  at  will  from  the  Eire  Creation  of  the 
‘ World  to  its  Fire-Consummation  ; here  historically  present 
‘ in  the  First  Century,  conversing  face  to  face  with  Paul  and 
‘Seneca;  there  prophetically  in  the  Thirty-first,  conversing 
‘ also  face  to  face  with  other  Pauls  and  Senecas,  who  as  yet 
‘ stand  hidden  in  the  depth  of  that  late  Time  ! 

‘ Or  thinkest  thou,  it  were  impossible,  unimaginable  ? Is 
‘ the  Past  annihilated,  then,  or  only  past ; is  the  Future  non- 
‘ extant  or  only  future  ? Those  mystic  faculties  of  thine, 
‘ Memory  and  Plope,  already  answer  : already  through  those 
‘ mystic  avenues,  thou  the  Eartli-blinded  summonest  both 
‘ Past  and  Future,  and  communest  with  them,  though  as  yet 
‘ darkly,  and  with  mute  beckonings.  The  curtains  of  Yester- 
‘ day  drop  down,  the  curtains  of  To-morrow  roll  up  ; but 
1 Yesterday  and  To-morrow  both  are . Pierce  through  the 


203 


SARTOR  RESARTUa. 


* Time-Element,  glance  into  the  Eternal.  Believe  what  thou 
‘ findest  written  in  the  sanctuaries  of  Man’s  Soul,  even  as  all 
4 Thinkers,  in  all  ages,  have  devoutly  read  it  there  : that  Time 
‘ and  Space  are  not  God,  but  creations  of  God  ; that  with  God 
‘ as  it  is  a universal  Here,  so  it  is  an  everlasting  Now. 

* And  seest  thou  therein  any  glimpse  of  Immortality  ? — O 
€ Heaven ! Is  the  white  Tomb  of  our  Loved  One,  who  died 
‘ from  our  arms,  and  had  to  be  left  behind  us  there,  which 
‘ rises  in  the  distance,  like  a pale,  mournfully  receding  Mile 

* stone,  to  tell  how  many  toilsome  uncheered  miles  we  have 

* journeyed  on  alone, — but  a pale  spectral  Illusion  ! Is  the 

* lost  Friend  still  mysteriously  Here,  even  as  we  are  Here  mys- 
‘ teriously,  with  God  !— Know  of  a truth  that  only  the  Time- 
‘ shadows  have  perished,  or  are  perishable  ; that  the  real 
c Being  of  whatever  was,  and  whatever  is,  and  whatever  will 
‘ be,  is  even  now  and  forever.  This,  should  it  unhappily  seem 

* new,  thou  mayst  ponder  at  thy  leisure  ; for  the  next  twenty 
‘ years,  or  the  next  twenty  centuries  : believe  it  thou  must ; 
6 understand  it  thou  canst  not. 

‘ That  the  Thought- forms,  Space  and  Time,  wherein,  once 
‘ for  all,  we  are  sent  into  this  Earth  to  live,  should  condition 
c and  determine  our  whole  Practical  reasonings,  conceptions, 

* and  imagings  or  imaginings, — seems  altogether  fit,  just,  and 
€ unavoidable.  But  that  they  should,  furthermore,  usurp  such 
1 sway  over  pure  spiritual  Meditation,  and  blind  us  to  the 

* wonder  everywhere  lying  close  on  us,  seems  nowise  so. 
‘ Admit  Space  and  Time  to  their  due  rank  as  Forms  of 

* Thought ; nay,  even,  if  thou  wilt,  to  their  quite  undue  rank  of 
‘ Realities : and  consider,  then,  with  thyself  how  their  thin  dis- 
‘ guises  hide  from  us  the  brightest  God-effulgences ! Thus, 

* were  it  not  miraculous,  could  I stretch  forth  my  hand,  and 
c clutch  the  Sun  ? Yet  thou  seest  me  daily  stretch  forth  my 
‘ hand,  and  therewith  clutch  many  a thing,  and  swing  it  hither 
‘ and  thither.  Art  thou  a grown  baby,  then,  to  fancy  that  the 
‘ Miracle  lies  in  miles  of  distance,  or  in  pounds  avoirdupois  of 

* weight ; and  not  to  see  that  the  true  inexplicable  God-reveal- 

* ing  Miracle  lies  in  this,  that  I can  stretch  forth  my  hand  at 
‘ all ; that  I have  free  Force  to  clutch  aught  therewith  ? In- 


NATURAL  SUPERNATURALISM. 


209 


‘ numerable  other  of  this  sort  are  the  deceptions,  and  wonder 
‘ hiding  stupefactions,  which  Space  practices  on  us. 

‘ Still  worse  is  it  with  regard  to  Time.  Your  grand  anti-ma- 
e gician,  and  universal  wonder-hider,  is  this  same  lying  Time. 

‘ Had  we  but  the  Time-annihilating  Hat,  to  put  on  for  once 
4 only,  we  should  see  ourselves  in  a World  of  Miracles,  where- 
4 in  all  fabled  or  authentic  Thaumaturgy,  and  feats  of  Magic, 

4 were  outdone.  But  unhappily  we  have  not  such  a Hat ; and 
4 man,  poor  fool  that  he  is,  can  seldom  and  scantily  help  him- 
4 self  without  one. 

4 Were  it  not  wonderful,  for  instance,  had  Orpheus,  or  Am- 
4 phion,  built  the  walls  of  Thebes  by  the  mere  sound  of  his 
4 Lyre  ? Yet  tell  me,  Who  built  these  walls  of  Weissniclitwo  ; 
4 summoning  out  all  the  sandstone  rocks,  to  dance  along  from 
4 the  Stein-bruch  (now  a huge  Troglodyte  Chasm,  with  fright- 
4 ful  green-mantled  pools) ; and  shape  themselves  into  Doric 
4 and  Ionic  pillars,  squared  ashlar  houses,  and  noble  streets  ? 
4 Was  it  not  the  still  higher  Orpheus,  or  Orpheuses,  who,  in 
4 past  centuries,  by  the  divine  Music  of  Wisdom,  succeeded 
4 in  civilising  man  ? Our  highest  Orpheus  walked  in  Judea, 
4 eighteen  hundred  years  ago  : his  sphere-melody,  flowing  in 
4 wild  native  tones,  took  captive  the  ravished  souls  of  men ; 
4 and,  being  of  a truth  sphere-melody,  still  flows  and  sounds, 
4 though  now  with  thousandfold  Accompaniments,  and  rich 
4 symphonies,  through  all  our  hearts  ; and  modulates,  and 
4 divinely  leads  them.  Is  that  a wronder,  which  happens  in 
4 two  hours  ; and  does  it  cease  to  be  wonderful  if  happening 
4 in  two  million  ? Not  only  was  Thebes  built  by  the  music  of 
4 an  Orpheus  ; but  without  the  music  of  some  inspired  Or- 
4 pheus  was  no  city  ever  built,  no  work  that  man  glories  in 
4 ever  done. 

4 Sweep  away  the  Illusion  of  Time  ; glance,  if  thou  have 
4 eyes,  from  the  near  moving-cause,  to  its  far  distant  Mover : 
4 The  stroke  that  came  transmitted  through  a whole  galaxy  of 
4 elastic  balls,  was  it  less  a stroke  than  if  the  last  ball  only 
‘had  been  struck,  and  sent  flying?  Oh,  could  I (with  the 
4 Time-annihilating  Hat)  transport  thee  direct  from  the  Begin- 
nings to  the  Endings,  how  were  thy  eyesight  unsealed,*  and 
14 


210 


SARTOR  RESARTU8. 


‘ thy  heart  set  flaming  in  the  Light- sea  of  celestial  wonder! 
‘Then  sawest  thou  that  this  fair  Universe,  were  it  in  the 
‘meanest  province  thereof,  is  in  very  deed  the  star-domed 
‘ City  of  God ; that  through  every  star,  through  every  grass- 
‘ blade,  and  most  through  every  Living  Soul,  the  glory  of  a 
‘present  God  still  beams.  But  Nature,  which  is  the  Time- 
‘ vesture  of  God,  and  reveals  Him  to  the  wise,  hides  Him  from 
‘the  foolish. 

‘Again,  could  anything  be  more  miraculous  than  an  actual 
‘ authentic  Ghost  ? The  English  Johnson  longed,  all  his  life 
‘ to  see  one  ; but  could  not,  though  he  went  to  Cock  Lane, 
‘and  thence  to  the  church-vaults,  and  tapped  on  coffins. 
‘Foolish  Doctor!  Did  he  never,  with  the  mind’s  eye  as  well 
‘as  with  the  body’s,  look  round  him  into  that  full  tide 
‘ of  human  Life  he  so  loved  ; did  he  never  so  much  as  look 
‘ into  Himself  ? The  good  Doctor  was  a Ghost,  as  actual  and 
‘ authentic  as  heart  could  wish ; well  nigh  a million  of  Ghosts 
‘ were  travelling  the  streets  by  his  side.  Once  more  I say, 
‘ sweep  away  the  illusion  of  Time ; compress  the  threescore 
‘ years  into  three  minutes : what  else  was  he,  what  else  are 
‘ we  ? Are  we  not  Spirits,  that  are  shaped  into  a body,  into 
‘ an  Appearance  ; and  that  fade  away  again  into  air,  and  In- 
‘ visibility  ? This  is  no  metaphor,  it  is  a simple  scientific  fact ; 
‘we  start  out  of  Nothingness,  take  figure,  and  are  Apparitions  ; 
‘round  us,  as  round  the  veriest  spectre,  is  Eternity  ; and  to 
‘Eternity  minutes  are  as  years  and  seons.  Come  there  not 
‘ tones  of  Love  and  Faith,  as  from  celestial  harp-strings,  like 
‘ the  Song  of  beatified  Souls  ? And  again,  do  we  not  squeak  and 
‘gibber  (in  our  discordant,  screech-owlish  debatings  and  re- 
‘ criminatings) ; and  glide  bodeful  and  feeble,  and  fearful ; or 
‘uproar  Qjo/tern),  and  revel  in  our  mad  Dance  of  the  Dead, — 
‘ till  the  scent  of  the  morning-air  summons  us  to  our  still 
‘ Home  ; and  dreamy  Night  becomes  awake  and  Day  ? Where 
‘ now  is  Alexander  of  Macedon  : does  the  steel  Host,  that 
‘yelled  in  fierce  battle-shouts,  at  Issus  and  Arbela,  remain 
‘behind  him  ; or  have  they  all  vanished  utterly,  even  as  per- 
‘ turbed  Goblins  must  ? Napoleon  too,  and  his  Moscow  Re- 
‘ treats  and  Austerlitz  Campaigns ! Was  it  all  other  than  thfl 


NATURAL  SUPERNATURALISM. 


211 


•veriest  Spectre-liunt ; which  has  now,  with  its  howling  tumult 
‘that  made  night  hideous,  flitted  away? — Ghosts!  There 
‘ are  nigh  a thousand  million  walking  the  Earth  openly  at 
‘ noontide  ; some  half-hundred  have  vanished  from  it,  some 
‘ half-hundred  have  arisen  in  it,  ere  thy  watch  ticks  once. 

‘ O Heaven,  it  is  mysterious,  it  is  awful  to  consider  that  we 
€not  only  carry  each  a future  Ghost  within  him  ; but  are,  in 

* very  deed,  Ghosts ! These  Limbs,  whence  had  we  them  ; this 
‘ stormy  Force  ; this  life-blood  with  its  burning  passion  ? They 
‘ are  dust  and  shadow  ; a Shadow-system  gathered  round  our 
‘ Me  ; wherein  through  some  moments  or  years,  the  Divine 
‘ Essence  is  to  be  revealed  in  the  Flesh.  That  warrior  on  his 
‘ strong  war-horse,  fire  flashes  through  his  eyes  ; force  dwells 
‘ in  his  arm  and  heart ; but  warrior  and  war-horse  are  a vision ; 
‘ a revealed  Force,  nothing  more.  Stately  they  tread  the 
‘ Earth,  as  if  it  were  a firm  substance  : fool ! the  Earth  is  but 
‘ a film  ; it  cracks  in  twain,  and  warrior  and  war-horse  sink 
‘ beyond  plummet’s  sounding.  Plummet’s?  Fantasy  herself 
‘ will  not  follow  them.  A little  while  ago  they  were  not ; a 
‘ little  while  and  they  are  not,  their  very  ashes  are  not. 

‘ So  has  it  been  from  the  beginning,  so  will  it  be  to  the 

* end.  Generation  after  generation  takes  to  itself  the  Form 
‘ of  a Body  ; and  forth-issuing  from  Cimmerian  Night,  on 
‘ Heaven’s  mission  appears.  What  Force  and  Fire  is  in  each 
‘he  expends:  one  grinding  in  the  mill  of  Industry;  one 
‘ hunter-like  climbing  the  giddy  Alpine  heights  of  Science  ; 
‘ one  madly  dashed  in  pieces  on  the  rocks  of  Strife,  in  war 
‘ with  his  fellow  and  then  the  Heaven-sent  is  recalled  ; his 
‘ earthly  Vesture  falls  away,  and  soon  even  to  Sense  becomes 
‘ a Vanished  Shadow.  Thus,  like  some  wild-flaming,  wild- 
‘ thundering  train  of  Heaven’s  Artillery,  does  this  mysterious 
‘ Mankind  thunder  and  flame,  in  long-drawn,  quick-succeeding 
‘ grandeur,  through  the  unknown  Deep.  Thus,  like  a God- 
‘ created,  fire-breathing  Spirit-host,  we  emerge  from  the 
‘ Inane  ; haste  stormfully  across  the  astonished  Earth ; then 
‘ plunge  again  into  the  Inane.  Earth’s  mountains  are  levelled, 
‘ and  her  seas  filled  up,  in  our  passage  : can  the  Earth,  which 
‘ is  but  dead  and  a vision,  resist  Spirits  which  have  reality 


212 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


‘ and  are  alive  ? On  the  hardest  adamant  some  foot-print  of 
‘ us  is  stamped  in  ; the  last  Rear  of  the  host  will  read  traces 
‘of  the  earliest  Van.  But  whence? — 0 Heaven,  whither? 
‘ Sense  knows  not  ; Faith  knows  not  ; only  that  it  is  through 
‘ Mystery  to  Mystery,  from  God  and  to  God. 

4 44  We  are  such  stuff 

4 As  Dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  Life 
4 Is  rounded  with  a sleep  !”  * 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CIRCUMSPECTIVE. 

Here  then  arises  the  so  momentous  question : Have  many 
British  Readers  actually  arrived  with  us  at  the  new  promised 
country  ; is  the  Philosophy  of  Clothes  now  at  last  opening 
around  them  ? Long  and  adventurous  has  the  journey  been  : 
from  those  outmost  vulgar,  palpable  Woollen  Hulls  of  Man  ; 
through  his  wondrous  Flesh-Garments,  and  his  wondrous 
Social  Garnitures  ; inwards  to  the  Garments  of  his  very  Soul’s 
Soul,  to  Time  and  Space  themselves ! And  now  does  the 
Spiritual,  eternal  Essence  of  Man,  and  of  Mankind,  bared  of 
such  wrappages,  begin  in  any  measure  to  reveal  itself?  Can 
many  readers  discern,  as  through  a glass  darkly,  in  huge  waver- 
ing outlines,  some  primeval  rudiments  of  Man’s  Being,  what 
is  changeable  divided  from  what  is  unchangeable?  Does 
that  Earth-Spirit’s  speech  in  Faust : 

4 ’ Tis  tlius  at  the  roaring  Loom  of  Time  I ply, 

4 And  weave  for  God  the-  G arment  thou  see’st  him  by  ; ’ 

or  that  other  thousand- times  repeated  speech  of  the  Magician, 
Shakspeare  : 

4 And  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision, 

4 The  cloudcapt  Towers,  the  gorgeous  Palaces, 

4 The  solemn  Temples,  the  great  Globe  itself, 

4 And  all  which  it  inherit  shall  dissolve  ; 

4 And  like  this  unsubstantial  pageant  faded, 

‘ Leave  not  a wrack  behind  ; * 


CIRCUMSPECTIVE. 


213 


begin  to  have  some  meaning  for  us  ? In  a word,  do  we  at 
length  stand  safe  in  the  far  region  of  Poetic  Creation  and 
Palin genesia,  where  that  Phoenix  Death-Birth  of  Human  So- 
ciety, and  of  all  Human  Things,  appears  possible,  is  seen  to 
be  inevitable  ? 

Along  this  most  insufficient,  unheard-of  Bridge,  which  the 
Mi  tor,  by  Heaven’s  blessing,  has  now  seen  himself  enabled 
to  conclude  if  not  complete,  it  cannot  be  his  sober  calculation, 
but  only  his  fond  hope,  that  many  have  travelled  without  ac- 
cident. No  firm  arch,  overspanning  the  Impassable  with 
paved  highway,  could  the  Editor  construct  ; only,  as  was 
said,  some  zigzag  series  of  rafts  floating  tumultuously  thereon. 
Alas,  and  the  leaps  from  raft  to  raft  wTere  too  often  of  a break- 
neck character  ; the  darkness,  the  nature  of  the  element,  all 
was  against  us ! 

Nevertheless,  may  not  here  and  there  one  of  a thousand, 
provided  with  a discursiveness  of  intellect  rare  in  our  day, 
have  cleared  the  passage,  in  spite  of  all  ? Happy  few ! little 
baud  of  Friends ! be  welcome,  be  of  courage.  By  degrees, 
the  eye  grows  accustomed  to  its  new  Whereabout  ; the  hand 
can  stretch  itself  forth  to  work  there  : it  is  in  this  grand  and 
indeed  highest  work  of  Falingenesia  that  ye  shall  labour, 
each  according  to  ability.  New  labourers  will  arrive  ; new 
Bridges  will  be  built  ; nay,  may  not  our  own  poor  rope-and- 
raft  Bridge,  in  your  passings  and  repassings  be  mended  in 
many  a point,  till  it  grow  quite  firm,  passable  even  for  the  halt  ? 

Meanwhile,  of  the  innumerable  multitude  that  started  with 
us,  joyous  and  full  of  hope,  wThere  now  is  the  innumerable  re- 
mainder, whom  we  see  no  longer  by  our  side  ? The  most 
have  recoiled,  and  stand  gazing  afar  off,  in  unsympathetic 
astonishment,  at  our  career : not  a few,  pressing  forward  with 
more  courage,  have  missed  footing,  or  leaped  short ; and  now 
swim  weltering  in  the  Chaos-flood,  some  towards  this  shore, 
some  towards  that.  To  these  also  a helping  hand  should  be 
held  out ; at  least  some  word  of  encouragement  be  said. 

Or,  to  speak  without  metaphor,  with  which  mode  of  utter- 
ance Teufelsdrockh  unhappily  has  somewhat  infected  us,— « 
can  it  be  hidden  from  the  Editor  that  many  a British  Reader 


214 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


sits  reading  quite  bewildered  in  head,  and  afflicted  rather  than 
instructed  by  the  present  Work?  Yes,  long  ago  has  many  a 
British  Reader  been,  as  now,  demanding,  with  something  like 
a snarl : Whereto  does  all  this  lead  ; or  what  use  is  in  it  ? 

In  the  way  of  replenishing  thy  purse,  or  otherwise  aiding 
thy  digestive  faculty,  O British  Reader,  it  leads  to  nothing,  and 
there  is  no  use  in  it ; but  rather  the  reverse,  for  it  costs  thee 
somewhat.  Nevertheless,  if  through  this  unpromising  Horn- 
gate,  Teufelsdrockh,  and  we  by  means  of  him,  have  led  thee 
into  the  true  Land  of  Dreams;  and  through  the  Clothes- 
Screen,  as  through  a magical  Pierre- Per  tuis,  thoulookest,  even 
for  moments,  into  the  region  of  the  WTonderful,  and  seest  and 
feelest  that  thy  daily  life  is  girt  wTith  Wonder,  and  based  on 
Wonder,  and  thy  very  blankets  and  breeches  are  Miracles, — 
then  art  thou  profited  beyond  money’s  worth  ; and  hast  a 
thankfulness  towards  our  Professor  ; nay,  perhaps  in  many  a 
literary  Tea-circle,  wilt  open  thy  kind  lips,  and  audibly  express 
that  same. 

Nay,  farther,  art  not  thou  too  perhaps  by  this  time  made 
aware  that  all  Symbols  are  properly  Clothes  ; that  all  Forms 
whereby  Spirit  manifests  itself  to  Sense,  whether  outwardly 
or  in  the  imagination,  are  Clothes ; and  thus  not  only  the 
parchment  Magna  Charta,  which  a Tailor  wTas  nigh  cutting 
into  measures,  but  the  Pomp  and  Authority  of  Law,  the 
sacredness  of  Majesty,  and  all  inferior  Worships  (Worth- 
ships)  are  properly  a Vesture  and  Raiment ; and  the  Thirty- 
nine  Articles  themselves  are  articles  of  wearing  apparel  (for 
the  Religious  Idea)  ? In  which  case,  must  it  not  also  be  ad- 
mitted that  this  Science  of  Clothes  is  a high  one,  and  may 
with  infinitely  deeper  study  on  thy  part  yield  richer  fruit: 
that  it  takes  scientific  rank  beside  Codification,  and  Political 
Economy,  and  the  Theory  of  the  British  Constitution  ; nay, 
rather,  from  its  prophetic  height  looks  down  on  all  these,  as 
on  so  many  weaving-shops  and  spinning-mills,  where  the 
Vestures  which  it  has  to  fashion,  and  consecrate,  and  distrib- 
ute, are,  too  often  by  haggard  hungry  operatives  who  see  no 
farther  than  their  nose,  mechanically  woven  and  spun  ? 

But  omitting  all  this,  much  more  all  that  concerns  Natural 


TEE  DANDIACAL  BODY. 


215 


Snpernaturalism,  and  indeed  whatever  has  reference  to  the 
Ulterior  or  Transcendental  Portion  of  the  Science,  or  bears 
never  so  remotely  on  that  promised  Volume  of  the  Palingenesis 
der  menschlichen  Geselhchaft  (Newbirth  of  Society), — we  hum- 
bly suggest  that  no  province  of  Clotlies-Philosophy,  even  the 
lowest,  is  without  its  direct  value,  but  that  innumerable  in- 
ferences of  a practical  nature  may  be  drawn  therefrom.  To 
say  nothing  of  those  pregnant  considerations,  ethical,  politi- 
cal, symbolical,  which  crowd  on  the  Clothes-Philosopher  from 
the  very  threshold  of  his  Science ; nothing  even  of  those  ‘ archi- 
tectural ideas  ’ which,  as  we  have  seen,  lurk  at  the  bottom  of 
all  Modes,  and  will  one  day,  better  unfolding  themselves, 
lead  to  important  revolutions, — let  us  glance  for  a moment, 
and  with  the  faintest  light  of  Clotlies-Philosophy,  on  what 
may  be  called  the  Habilatory  Class  of  our  fellow-men.  Here 
too  overlooking,  where  so  much  were  to  be  looked  on,  the 
million  spinners,  weavers,  fullers,  dyers,  washers,  and  wringers, 
that  puddle  and  muddle  in  their  dark  recesses,  to  make  us 
Clothes,  and  die  that  we  may  live, — let  us  but  turn  the  read- 
er’s attention  upon  two  small  divisions  of  mankind,  who,  like 
moths,  may  be  regarded  as  Cloth-animals,  creatures  that  live, 
move  and  have  their  being  in  Cloth : we  mean,  Dandies  and 
Tailors. 

In  regard  to  both  which  small  divisions  it  may  be  asserted, 
without  scruple,  that  the  public  feeling,  unenlightened  by  Phi- 
losophy, is  at  fault  ; and  even  that  the  dictates  of  humanity 
are  violated.  As  will  perhaps  abundantly  appear  to  readers 
of  the  two  following  Chapters. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  DANDIACAL  BODY. 

First,  touching  Dandies,  let  us  consider,  with  some  scien- 
tific strictness,  what  a Dandy  specially  is.  A Dandy  is  a 
Clothes- wearing  man,  a Man  whose  trade,  office,  and  existence 
consists  in  the  wearing  of  Clothes.  Every  faculty  of  his  soul, 
spirit,  purse,  and  person  is  heroically  consecrated  to  this  one 
object,  the  wearing  of  Clothes  wisely  and  well : so  that  as 


216 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


others  dress  to  live,  he  lives  to  dress.  The  all-importanee  of 
Clothes,  which  a German  Professor,  of  unequalled  learning  and 
acumen,  writes  his  enormous  Volume  to  demonstrate,  has 
sprung  up  in  the  intellect  of  the  Dandy,  without  effort,  like 
an  instinct  of  genius  ; he  is  inspired  with  Cloth,  a Poet  of 
Cloth.  What  Teufelsdrockh  would  call  a ‘Divine  Idea  of 
Cloth 5 is  born  with  him  ; and  this,  like  other  such  Ideas,  will 
express  itself  outwardly,  or  wring  his  heart  asunder  with  un- 
utterable throes. 

But,  like  a generous,  creative  enthusiast,  he  fearlessly  makes 
his  Idea  an  Action  ; shews  himself,  in  peculiar  guise,  to  man- 
kind ; walks  forth,  a witness  and  living  Martyr  to  the  eternal 
"Worth  of  Clothes.  We  call  him  a Poet : is  not  his  body  the 
(stuffed)  parchment-skin  whereon  he  writes,  with  cunning 
Huddersfield  dyes,  a Sonnet  to  his  mistress’  eyebrow  ? Say, 
rather,  an  Epos,  and  Clotha  Virumque  cano , to  the  whole 
world,  in  Macaronic  verses,  which  he  that  runs  may  read. 
Nay,  if  you  grant,  what  seems  to  be  admissible,  that  the  Dandy 
has  a thinking-principle  in  him,  and  some  notions  of  Time 
and  Space,  is  there  not  in  this  Life-devotedness  to  Cloth,  in 
this  so  willing  sacrifice  of  the  Immortal  to  the  Perishable, 
something  (though  in  reverse  order ) of  that  blending  and  iden- 
tification of  Eternity  with  Time,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  con- 
stitutes the  Prophetic  character  ? 

And  now,  for  all  this  perennial  Martyrdom,  and  Poesy,  and 
even  Prophecy,  what  is  it  that  the  Dandy  asks  in  return? 
Solely,  we  may  say,  that  you  would  recognise  his  existence  ; 
would  admit  him  to  be  a living  object ; or  even  failing  this,  a 
visual  object,  or  thing  that  will  reflect  rays  of  light.  Your 
silver  or  your  gold  (beyond  what  the  niggardly  Law  has  al- 
ready secured  him)  he  solicits  not ; simply  the  glance  of  your 
eyes.  Understand  his  mystic  significance,  or  altogether  miss 
and  misinterpret  it ; do  but  look  at  him,  and  he  is  contented. 
May  we  not  well  cry  shame  on  an  ungrateful  world,  which 
refuses  even  this  poor  boon  ; which  will  waste  its  optic  faculty 
on  dried  Crocodiles,  and  Siamese  Twins  : and  over  the  domestic 
wonderful  wonder  of  wonders,  a live  Dandy,  glance  with  hasty 
indifference,  and  a scarcely  concealed  contempt ! Him  no 


THE  DANDIACAL  BODY. 


217 


Zoologist  classes  among  tlie  Mammalia,  no  Anatomist  dissects 
with  care  : when  did  we  see  any  injected  Preparation  of  the 
Dandy,  in  our  Museums  ; any  specimen  of  him  preserved  in 
spirits  ? Lord  Herringbone  may  dress  himself  in  a snuff-brown 
suit,  with  snuff-brown  shirt  and  shoes  : it  skills  not ; the  un- 
discerning public,  occupied  with  grosser  wants,  passes  by  re- 
gardless on  the  other  side. 

The  age  of  Curiosity,  like  that  of  Chivalry,  is  indeed,  prop- 
erly speaking,  gone.  Yet  perhaps  only  gone  to  sleep : for 
here  arises  the  Clothes-Philosophy  to  resuscitate,  strangely 
enough,  both  the  one  and  the  other  ! Should  sound  views  of 
this  Science  come  to  prevail,  the  essential  nature  of  the  British 
Dandy,  and  the  mystic  significance  that  lies  in  him,  cannot 
always  remain  hidden  under  laughable  and  lamentable  hallu- 
cination. The  following  long  Extract  from  Professor  Teu- 
felsdrockh  may  set  the  matter,  if  not  in  its  true  light,  yet  in 
the  way  towards  such.  It  is  to  be  regretted  however  that 
here,  as  so  often  elsewhere,  the  Professor’s  keen  philosphic 
perspicacity  is  somewhat  marred  by  a certain  mixture  of  al- 
most owlish  purblindness,  or  else  of  some  perverse,  ineffec- 
tual, ironic  tendency  ; our  readers  shall  j udge  which  : 

£ In  these  distracted  times,’  writes  he,  £ when  the  Religious 
6 Principle,  driven  out  of  most  Churches,  either  lies  unseen 
£ in  the  hearts  of  good  men,  looking  and  longing,  and  silently 
£ working  there  towards  some  new  Revelation  ; or  else  wan- 
£ ders  homeless  over  the  world,  like  a disembodied  soul  seek- 
£ ing  its  terrestrial  organisation, — into  how  many  strange 
£ shapes,  of  Superstition  and  Fanaticism,  does  it  not  tentatively 
£ and  errantly  cast  itself  ! The  higher  Enthusiasm  of  man’s 
£ nature  is  for  the  while  without  Exponent ; yet  does  it  con- 
£ tinue  indestructible,  unweariedly  active,  and  work  blindly  in 
£ the  great  chaotic  deep  : thus  Sect  after  Sect,  and  Church 
( after  Church,  bodies  itself  forth,  and  melts  again  into  new 
£ metamorphosis. 

£ Chiefly  is  this  observable  in  England,  which,  as  the 
c wealthiest  and  worst-instructed  of  European  nations,  offers 
* precisely  the  elements  (of  Heat,  namely,  and  of  Darkness), 


218 


SAllTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ in  which  such  moon-calves  and  monstrosities  are  best  gen- 
‘ erated.  Among  the  newer  Sects  of  that  country,  one  of  the 
c most  notable,  and  closely  connected  with  our  present  sub- 
‘ ject,  is  that  of  the  Dandies  ; concerning  which,  what  little 
‘ information  I have  been  able  to  procure  may  fitly  stand  here. 

‘ It  is  true,  certain  of  the  English  Journalists,  men  generally 

* without  sense  for  the  Religious  Principle,  or  judgment  foi 
c its  manifestations,  speak,  in  their  brief  enigmatic  notices,  as 
‘ if  this  were  perhaps  rather  a Secular  Sect,  and  not  a Re- 
‘ ligious  one  : nevertheless,  to  the  psychologic  eye  its  devotional 
‘ and  even  sacrificial  character  plainly  enough  reveals  itself. 
‘ Whether  it  belongs  to  the  class  of  Fetish-wor  ships,  or  of 
‘ Hero-worships  or  Polytheisms,  or  to  what  other  class,  may 
‘ in  the  present  state  of  our  intelligence  remain  undecided 
‘ (schweben).  A certain  touch  of  Manicheism,  not  indeed  in 
‘ the  Gnostic  shape,  is  discernible  enough  : also  (for  human 
‘ Error  walks  in  a cycle,  and  reappears  at  intervals)  a not  in- 
‘ considerable  resemblance  to  that  Superstition  of  the  Atlios 
‘ Monks,  who  by  fasting  from  all  nourishment,  and  looking 
‘ intensely  for  a length  of  time  into  their  own  navels,  came  to 
i discern  therein  the  true  Apocalypse  of  Nature,  and  Heaven 
‘ Unveiled.  To  my  own  surmise,  it  appears  as  if  this  Dan- 
‘ diacal  Sect  were  but  a new  modification,  adapted  to  the  new 
‘time,  of  that  primeval  Superstition,  Self-Worship ; which 
‘ Zerduslit,  Quangfoutchee,  Mohamed,  and  others,  strove  rather 
‘ to  subordinate  and  restrain  than  to  eradicate ; and  which 
‘ only  in  the  purer  forms  of  Religion  has  been  altogether  re- 
‘ jected.  Wherefore,  if  any  one  chooses  to  name  it  revived 
‘ Ahrimanism,  or  a new  figure  of  Demon-Worship,  I have,  so 
‘ far  as  is  yet  visible,  no  objection. 

‘ For  the  rest,  these  people,  animated  with  the  zeal  of  a new 
‘ Sect,  display  courage  and  perseverance,  and  what  force  there 
‘ is  in  man's  nature,  though  never  so  enslaved.  They  affect 

* great  purity  and  separatism  ; distinguish  themselves  by  a 
c particular  costume  (whereof  some  notices  were  given  in  the 
‘ earlier  part  of  this  Volume) ; likewise,  so  far  as  possible,  by 
‘ a particular  speech  (apparently  some  broken  Lingua-franca, 
‘ or  Engiish-French) ; and,  on  the  whole,  strive  to  maintain  a 


THE  DANDTACAL  BODY. 


219 


* true  Nazarene  deportment,  and  keep  themselves  unspotted 
4 from  the  world. 

4 They  have  their  Temples,  whereof  the  chief,  as  the  Jewish 
‘Temple  did,  stands  in  their  metropolis;  and  is  named  A l- 
4 mack's,  a word  of  uncertain  etymology.  They  worship  prin- 
4 cipally  by  night ; and  have  their  Highpriests  and  Highpriest- 
4 esses,  who,  however,  do  not  continue  for  life.  The  rites,  by 
4 some  supposed  to  be  of  the  Menadic  sort,  or  perhaps  with 
4 an  Eleusinian  or  Cabiric  character,  are  held  strictly  secret. 

4 Nor  are  Sacred  Books  wanting  to  the  Sect ; these  they  call 
4 Fashionable  Novels:  however,  the  Canon  is  not  completed, 

4 and  some  are  canonical  and  others  not. 

4 Of  such  Sacred  Books  I,  not  without  expense,  procured 
4 myself  some  samples  ; and  in  hope  of  true  insight,  and  with 
4 the  zeal  which  beseems  an  Inquirer  into  Clothes,  set  to  in- 
4 terpret  and  study  them.  But  wholly  to  no  purpose  : that 
4 tough  faculty  of  reading,  for  which  the  world  will  not  refuse 
4 me  credit,  was  here  for  the  first  time  foiled  and  set  at  naught. 
‘In  vain  that  I summoned  my  whole  energies  (mich  weidlich 
< anstrengte),  and  did  my  very  utmost ; at  the  end  of  some 
4 short  space,  I was  uniformly  seized  with  not  so  much  what  I 
4 can  call  a drumming  in  my  ears,  as  a kind  of  infinite,  unsuf- 
4 ferable  Jew’s-harping  and  scrannel-piping  there  ; to  which  the 
4 frightfulest  species  of  Magnetic  Sleep  soon  supervened.  And 
4 if  I strove  to  shake  this  away,  and  absolutely  would  not  yield, 
4 came  a hitherto  unfelt  sensation,  as  of  Delirium  Tremens , 
4 and  a melting  into  total  deliquium  : till  at  last,  by  order  of 
4 the  Doctor,  dreading  ruin  to  my  wThole  intellectual  and  bodily 
4 faculties,  and  a general  breaking-up  of  the  constitution,  I re- 
luctantly but  determinedly  forbore.  Was  there  some  miracle 
4 at  work  here  ; like  those  Fire-balls,  and  supernal  and  infernal 
‘prodigies,  which,  in  the  case  of  the  Jewish  Mysteries,  have 
4 also  more  than  once  scared  back  the  Alien  ? Be  this  as  it 
4 may,  such  failure  on  my  part,  after  best  efforts,  must  excuse 
4 the  imperfection  of  this  sketch  ; altogether  incomplete,  yet  the 
4 completest  I could  give  of  a Sect  too  singular  to  be  omitted. 

4 Loving  my  own  life  and  senses  as  I do,  no  power  shall  in- 
4 duce  me,  as  a private  individual,  to  open  another  Fashionable 


220 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ Novel.  But  luckily,  in  this  dilemma,  comes  a hand  from  the 
‘ clouds  ; whereby  if  not  victory,  deliverance  is  held  out  to 
‘ me.  Bound  one  of  those  Book-packages,  which  the  Stillschwei- 
‘ gensche  Buchhandlung  is  in  the  habit  of  importing  from 
‘England,  come,  as  is  usual,  various  waste  printed-sheets 
‘ ( macalatiir-bldtter ),  by  way  of  interior  wrappage  ; into  these 

* the  Clothes-Philosopher,  with  a certain  Moliamedan  reverence 
6 even  for  waste  paper,  where  curious  knowledge  will  some- 
‘ times  hover,  disdains  not  to  cast  his  eye.  Beaders  may  judge 
‘ of  his  astonishment  when  on  such  a defaced  stray,  sheet, 

* probably  the  outcast  fraction  of  some  English  Periodical, 
‘ such  as  they  name  Magazine , appears  something  like  a Dis- 

* sertation  on  this  very  subject  of  Fashionable  Novels!  It  sets 
‘ out,  indeed,  chiefly  from  the  Secular  point  of  view  ; directing 
‘ itself,  not  without  asperity,  against  some  to  me  unknown  in- 
‘ dividual,  named  Pelham , who  seems  to  be  a Mystagogue,  and 
‘ leading  Teacher  and  Preacher  of  the  Sect ; so  that,  what  in- 
‘ deed  otherwise  was  not  to  be  expected  in  such  a fugitive 
e fragmentary  sheet,  the  true  secret,  the  Beligious  physiognomy 
‘and  physiology  of  the  Dandiacal  Body,  is  nowise  laid  fully 
‘ open  there.  Nevertheless,  scattered  lights  do  from  time  to 
‘ time  sparkle  out,  whereby  I have  endeavoured  to  profit. 

‘ Nay,  in  one  passage  selected  from  the  Prophecies,  or  Mythic 
‘ Theogonies,  or  whatever  they  are  (for  the  style  seems  very 
‘ mixed)  of  this  Mystagogue,  I find  what  appears  to  be  a Con- 
‘ fession  of  Faith,  or  Whole  Duty  of  Man,  according  to  the 
‘ tenets  of  that  Sect.  Which  Confession  or  Whole  Duty,  there- 
‘ fore,  as  proceeding  from  a source  so  authentic,  I shall  here 

* arrange  under  Seven  distinct  Articles,  and  in  very  abridged 
‘ shape  lay  before  the  German  world  ; therewith  taking  leave 
‘ of  this  matter.  Observe,  also,  that  to  avoid  possibility  of 
‘ error,  I,  as  far  as  may  be,  quote  literally  from  the  Original.’ 

‘ ARTICLES  OF  FAITH. 

“ 1.  Coats  should  have  nothing  of  the  triangle  about  them  ; 
1 at  the  same  time,  wrinkles  behind  should  be  carefully  avoided. 

<£  2.  The  collar  is  a very  important  point  : it  should  be  low 
‘ behind,  and  slightly  rolled. 


THE  DANDIACAL  BODY. 


221 


“ 3.  No  license  of  fashion  can  allow  a man  of  delicate  taste 
‘ to  adopt  the  posterial  luxuriance  of  a Hottentot. 

“ 4.  There  is  safety  in  a swallow-tail. 

“ 5.  The  good  sense  of  a gentleman  is  nowhere  more  finely 

* developed  than  in  his  rings. 

“6.  It  is  permitted  to  mankind,  under  certain  restrictions, 
‘ to  wear  white  waistcoats. 

“ 7.  The  trowsers  must  be  exceedingly  tight  across  the 
‘ liips.,r 

4 All  which  Propositions  I,  for  the  present,  content  myself 
6 with  modestly  but  peremptorily  and  irrevocably  denying. 

4 In  strange  contrast  with  this  Dandiacal  Body  stands 
‘ another  British  Sect,  originally,  as  I understand,  of  Ireland, 
€ where  its  chief  seat  still  is ; but  known  also  in  the  main 
‘ Island,  and  indeed  everywhere  rapidly  spreading.  As  this 

* Sect  has  hitherto  emitted  no  Canonical  Books,  it  remains  to 
‘ me  in  the  same  state  of  obscurity  as  the  Dandiacal,  which 
‘ has  published  Books  that  the  unassisted  human  faculties  are 

* inadequate  to  read.  The  members  appear  to  be  designated 
‘ by  a considerable  diversity  of  names,  according  to  their 
‘ various  places  of  establishment : in  England  they  are  gener- 
c ally  called  the  Drudge  Sect ; also,  unphilosophically  enough, 
‘ the  White  Negroes  ; and,  chiefly  in  scorn  by  those  of  other 
‘ communions,  the  Bagged-Beggar  Sect.  In  Scotland,  again, 
‘ I find  them  entitled  Hallanshakers , or  the  Stook-of-Duds 
‘ Sect ; any  individual  communicant  is  named  Stook-of-Duds 
‘ (that  is,  Shock  of  Bags),  in  allusion,  doubtless,  to  their  pro- 
‘ fessional  Costume.  While  in  Ireland,  which,  as  mentioned, 
‘ is  their  grand  parent  hive,  they  go  by  a perplexing  multi- 
c plicity  of  designations,  such  as  Bogtrotters,  Redshanks , Ribbon- 
‘ men , Cottiers.  Peep-of-Day  Boys , Babes  in  the  Wood , Roekites, 
‘ Poor-Slaves  : which  last,  however,  seems  to  be  the  primary 
c and  generic  name  ; whereto,  probably  enough,  the  others 
‘ are  only  subsidiary  species,  or  slight  varieties  ; or,  at  most, 
‘ propagated  offsets  from  the  parent  stem,  whose  minute  sub- 
6 divisions,  and  shades  of  difference,  it  were  here  loss  of  time 
‘ to  dwell  on.  Enough  for  us  to  understand/ what  seems  in* 


222 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


* dubitable,  that  the  original  Sect  is  that  of  the  Poor-Slaves  ; 
< whose  doctrines,  practices,  and  fundamental  characteristics 
e pervade  and  animate  the  whole  Body,  howsoever  denomi- 

* nated  or  outwardly  diversified. 

‘ The  precise  speculative  tenets  of  this  Brotherhood : how  the 
' Universe,  and  the  Man,  and  Man’s  Life,  picture  themselves 
4 to  the  mind  of  an  Irish  Poor-Slave  ; with  what  feelings  and 
4 opinions  he  looks  forward  on  the  Future,  round  on  the 
‘ Present,  back  on  the  Past,  it  were  extremely  difficult  to 
4 specify.  Something  Monastic  there  appears  to  be  in  their 
4 Constitution : we  find  them  bound  by  the  two  Monastic 
4 Vows  of  Poverty  and  Obedience  ; which  Vows,  especially  the 
4 former,  it  is  said,  they  observe  with  great  strictness  ; nay,  as 
4 I have  understood  it,  they  are  pledged,  and  be  it  by  any 
4 solemn  Nazarene  ordination  or  not,  irrevocably  consecrated 
4 thereto,  even  before  birth.  That  the  third  Monastic  Vow,  of 
‘ Chastity,  is  rigidly  enforced  among  them,  I find  no  ground 
4 to  conjecture. 

4 Furthermore,  they  appear  to  imitate  the  Dandiacal  Sect 
4 in  their  grand  Principle  of  wearing  a peculiar  Costume.  Of 
4 which  Irish  Poor-Slave  Costume  no  description  will  indeed 
4 be  found  in  the  present  Volume  ; for  this  reason,  that  by 
4 the  imperfect  organ  of  Language  it  did  not  seem  describable. 
4 Their  raiment  consists  of  innumerable  skirts,  lappets,  and 

* irregular  wings,  of  all  cloths  and  of  all  colours  ; through  the 
4 labyrinthic  intricacies  of  which  their  bodies  are  introduced 
4 by  some  unknown  process.  If  is  fastened  together  by  a 
4 multiplex  combination  of  buttons,  thrums,  and  skewers  ; to 
4 which  frequently  is  added  a girdle  of  leather,  of  hempen  or 
4 even  of  straw  rope,  round  the  loins.  To  straw  rope,  indeed, 
4 they  seem  partial,  and  often  wear  it  by  way  of  sandals.  In 
4 head-dress  they  affect  a certain  freedom  ; hats  with  partial 
4 brim,  without  crown,  or  with  only  a loose,  hinged,  or  valve 
4 crown  ; in  the  former  case,  they  sometimes  invert  the  hat, 
4 and  wear  it  brim  uppermost,  like  a University  cap,  with 
4 what  view  is  unknown. 

4 The  name  Poor-Slaves,  seems  to  indicate  a Slavonic,  Polish, 
4 or  Eussian  origin  : not  so,  however,  the  interior  essence  and 


TEE  DANDIACAL  BODY. 


223 


‘ spirit  of  tlieir  Superstition,  which  rather  displays  a Teutonic 
‘ or  Druidical  character.  One  might  fancy  them  worshippers 
‘ of  Hertha,  or  the  Earth : for  they  dig  and  affectionately  work 
‘ continually  in  her  bosom  ; or  else,  shut  up  in  private  Ora- 
‘ tories,  meditate  and  manipulate  the  substances  derived  from 
‘ her ; seldom  looking  up  towards  the  Heavenly  Luminaries, 
‘ and  then  with  comparative  indifference.  Like  the  Druids, 
‘ on  the  other  hand,  they  live  in  dark  dwellings  ; often  even 
‘breaking  their  glass- windows,  where  they  find  such,  and 
‘ stuffing  them  up  with  pieces  of  raiment,  or  other  opaque 
‘ substances,  till  the  fit  obscurity  is  restored.  Again,  like  all 
‘ followers  of  Nature-Worship,  they  are  liable  to  outbreakings 
‘ of  an  enthusiasm  rising  to  ferocity  ; and  burn  men,  if  not  in 
‘ wicker  idols,  yet  in  sod  cottages. 

‘ In  respect  of  diet,  they  have  also  their  observances.  All 
‘Poor-Slaves  are  Bhizophagous  (or  Boot-eaters)  ; a few  are 
‘ Ichthyophagous,  and  use  Salted  Herrings : other  animal  food 
‘ they  abstain  from  ; except  indeed,  with  perhaps  some  strange 
‘ inverted  fragment  of  a Brahminical  feeling,  such  animals  as 
‘ die  a natural  death.  Their  universal  sustenance  is  the  root 
‘ named  Potato,  cooked  by  fire  alone  ; and  generally  without 
‘ condiment  or  relish  of  any  kind,  save  an  unknown  condiment 
‘ named  Point , into  the  meaning  of  which  I have  vainly  in- 
‘ quired  ; the  victual  Potatoes  -and-Point  not  appearing,  at  least 
‘ not  with  specific  accuracy  of  description,  in  any  European 
‘ Cookery-Book  whatever.  For  drink  they  use,  with  an  almost 
‘ epigrammatic  counterpoise  of  taste,  Milk,  which  is  the  mild- 
‘ est  of  liquors,  and  Potheen , which  is  the  fiercest.  This  latter 
‘ I have  tasted,  as  well  as  the  English  Blue- Ruin,  and  the  Scotch 
‘ Whisky , analogous  fluids  used  by  the  Sect  in  those  countries : 
it  evidently  contains  some  form  of  alcohol,  in  the  highest  state 
J of  concentration,  though  disguised  with  acrid  oils  : and  is,  on 
‘ the  whole,  the  most  pungent  substance  known  to  me, — in- 
‘ deed,  a perfect  liquid  fire.  In  all  their  Beligious  Solemnities, 
‘ Potheen  is  said  to  be  an  indispensable  requisite,  and  largely 
‘ consumed. 

* An  Irish  Traveller,  of  perhaps  common  veracity,  who  pre- 
‘ sents  himself  under  the  to  me  unmeaning  title  of  The  laU 


224 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US, 


c John  Bernard , offers  the  following  sketch  of  a domestic  estab- 
‘ lishment,  the  inmates  whereof,  though  such  is  not  stated  ex- 
‘ pressly,  appear  to  have  been  of  that  Faith.  Thereby  shall 
‘ my  German  readers  now  behold  an  Irish  Poor-Slave,  as  it 
‘ were  with  their  own  eyes  ; and  even  see  him  at  meat.  More- 
‘ over,  in  the  so  precious  waste-paper  sheet,  above  mentioned, 
c I have  found  some  corresponding  picture  of  a Dandiacal 
‘ Household,  painted  by  that  same  Dandiacal  Mystagogue,  or 
‘ Theogonist : this  also,  by  way  of  counterpart  and  contrast, 

‘ the  world  shall  look  into. 

‘ First,  therefore,  of  the  Poor-Slave,  who  appears  likewise  to 
‘ have  been  a species  of  Innkeeper.  I quote  from  the  original: 
‘ “ The  furniture  of  this  Caravansera  consisted  of  a large  iron 
‘ Pot,  two  oaken  Tables,  two  Benches,  two  Chairs,  and  a Pot- 
‘ heen  Noggin.  There  was  a Loft  above  (attainable  by  a lad- 
‘ der),  upon  which  the  inmates  slept ; and  the  space  below  was 
‘ divided  by  a hurdle  into  two  Apartments  ; the  one  for  their 
‘ cow  and  pig,  the  other  for  themselves  and  guests.  On  enter- 
‘ ing  the  house  we  discovered  the  family,  eleven  in  number, 
‘ at  dinner  ; the  father  sitting  at  the  top,  the  mother  at  bot- 
‘ tom,  the  children  on  each  side  of  a large  oaken  Board  which 
‘ wras  scooped  out  in  the  middle,  like  a Trough,  to  receive  the 
‘ contents  of  their  Pot  of  Potatoes.  Little  holes  were  cut  at 
‘ equal  distance  to  contain  Salt ; and  a bowl  of  Milk  stood  on 
‘ the  table  : all  the  luxuries  of  meat  and  beer,  bread,  knives, 
‘ and  dishes  were  dispensed  with.”  The  Poor-Slave  himself 
‘ our  Traveller  found,  as  he  says,  broad-backed,  black-browed, 
‘ of  great  personal  strength,  and  mouth  from  ear  to  ear.  His 
‘ Wife  was  a sun-browned  but  well-featured  woman  ; and  his 
‘young  ones,  bare  and  chubby,  had  the  appetite  of  ravens, 
‘ Of  their  Philosophical,  or  Beligious  tenets  or  observances, 
‘ no  notice  or  hint. 

‘ But  now,  secondly,  of  the  Dandiacal  Household  ; in  which, 
‘truly,  that  often-mentioned  Mystagogue  and  inspired  Pen- 
man himself  has  his  abode  : “ A Dressing-room  splendidly 
‘ furnished  ; violet-coloured  curtains,  chairs  and  ottomans  of 
‘ the  same  hue.  Two  full-length  Mirrors  are  placed,  one  on 
each  side  of  a table,  which  supports  the  luxuries  of  the  Toi- 


THE  DANDIACAL  BODY. 


225 


‘lot.  Several  Bottles  of  Perfumes,  arranged  in  a peculiar 
4 fashion,  stand  upon  a smaller  table  of  mother-of-pearl : op- 
4 posite  to  these  are  placed  the  appurtenances  of  Lavation 
4 richly  wrought  in  frosted  silver.  A Wardrobe  of  Buhl  is  on 
4 the  left ; the  doors  of  which  being  partly  open  discover  a 
4 profusion  of  Clothes ; Shoes  of  a singularly  small  size  monop- 
4 olise  the  lower  shelves.  Fronting  the  wardrobe  a door  ajar 
4 gives  some  slight  glimpse  of  a Bath-room.  Folding-doors 
4 in  the  bach-ground. — Enter  the  Author/’  our  Theogonist  in 
4 person,  44  obsequiously  preceded  by  a French  Yalet,  in  white 
4 silk  Jacket  and  cambric  Apron.5’ 

4 Such  are  the  two  Sects  which,  at  this  moment,  divide  the 
4 more  unsettled  portion  of  the  British  People  ; and  agitate, 

4 that  ever-vexed  country.  To  the  eye  of  the  political  Seer, 

4 their  mutual  relation,  pregnant  with  the  elements  of  discord 
4 and  hostility,  is  far  from  consoling.  These  two  principles  of 
4 Dandiacal  Self-worship  or  Demon- worship,  and  Poor-Slavish 
4 or  Drudgical  Earth-worship,  or  whatever  that  same  Drudgism 
4 may  be,  do  as  yet  indeed  manifest  themselves  under  distant 
4 and  nowise  considerable  shapes  : nevertheless,  in  their  roots 
4 and  subterranean  ramifications,  they  extend  through  the  en- 
4 tire  structure  of  Society,  and  work  unweariedly  in  the  secret 
4 depths  of  English  national  Existence ; striving  to  separate  and 
4 isolate  it  into  two  contradictory,  uncommunicating  masses. 

4 In  numbers,  and  even  individual  strength,  the  Poor-Slaves 
4 or  Drudges,  it  would  seem,  are  hourly  increasing.  The 
4 Dandiacal,  again,  is  by  nature  no  proselytising  Sect ; but  it 
4 boasts  of  great  hereditary  resources,  and  is  strong  by  union  ; 
4 whereas  the  Drudges,  split  into  parties,  have  as  yet  no 
4 rallying-point ; or  at  best,  only  co-operate  by  means  of  par- 
4 tial  secret  affiliations.  If,  indeed,  there  were  to  arise  a Com - 
4 munion  of  Drudges,  as  there  is  already  a Communion  of 
4 Saints,  what  strangest  effects  would  follow  therefrom ! 
4 Dandyism  as  yet  affects  to  looks  down  on  Drudgism  : but 
4 perhaps  the  hour  of  trial,  when  it  will  be  practically  seen 
‘which  ought  to  look  down,  and  which  up,  is  not  so  distant. 

4 To  me  it  seems  probable  that  the  two  Sects  will  one  day 
15 


226 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


4 part  England  between  them  ; each  recruiting  itself  from  tha 
4 intermediate  ranks,  till  there  be  none  left  to  enlist  on 
4 either  side.  Those  Dandiacal  Manicheans,  with  the  host  of 
4 Dandyising  Christians,  will  form  one  body : the  Drudges, 
4 gathering  round  them  whosoever  is  Drudgical,  be  he  Chris- 
4 tian  or  Infidel  Pagan  ; sweeping  up  likewise  all  manner  of 
* Utilitarians,  Radicals,  refractory  Pot walloppers,  and  so  forth, 
< into  their  general  mass,  will  form  another.  I could  liken 
4 Dandyism  and  Drudgism  to  two  bottomless  boiling  Whirl- 
4 pools  that  had  broken  out  on  opposite  quarters  of  the  firm 
4 land  : as  yet  they  appear  only  disquieted,  foolishly  bubbling 
‘wells,  which  man’s  art  might  cover  in.;  yet  mark  them,  their 
4 diameter  is  daily  widening  ; they  are  hollow  Cones  that  boil 
4 up  from  the  infinite  Deep,  over  which  your  firm  land  is  but 
4 a thin  crust  or  rind  ! Thus  daily  is  the  intermediate  land 
4 crumbling  in,  daily  the  empire  of  the  two  Buchan-Bullers 
4 extending  ; till  now  there  is  but  a foot-plank,  a mere  film  of 
4 Land  between  them  ; this  too  is  washed  away  ; and  then — • 
4 we  have  the  true  Hell  of  Waters,  , and  Noah’s  Deluge  is  out- 
4 deluged  ! 

4 Or  better,  I might  call  them  two  boundless,  and  indeed 
4 unexampled  Electric  Machines  (turned  by  the  44  Machinery 
4 of  Society  ”),  with  batteries  of  opposite  quality ; Drudgism 
4 the  Negative,  Dandyism  the  Positive : one  attracts  hourly 
4 towards  it  and  appropriates  all  the  Positive  Electricity  of  the 
4 Nation  (namely,  the  Money  thereof) ; the  other  is  equally 
4 busy  with  the  Negative  (that  is  to  say  the  Hunger),  which  is 
‘equally  potent.  Hitherto  you  see  only  partial  transient 
4 sparkles  and  sputters  ; but  wait  a little,  till  the  entire  nation 
4 is  in  an  electric  state  ; till  your  whole  vital  Electricity,  no 
€ longer  healthfully  Neutral,  is  cut  into  two  isolated  portions 
4 of  Positive  and  Negative  (of  Money  and  of  Hunger) ; and 
4 stands  there  bottled  up  in  two  World-Batteries ! The  stir- 
4 ring  of  a child’s  finger  brings  the  two  together  ; and  then — 
4 What  then  ? The  Earth  is  but  shivered  into  impalpable 
4 smoke  by  that  Doom’s-thunderpeal ; the  Sun  misses  one  of 
4 his  Planets  in  Space,  and  thenceforth  there  are  no  eclipses  of 
4 the  Moon. — Or  better  still,  I might  liken’ 


TAILORS. 


227 


Oil ! enough,  enough  of  likenings  and  similitudes ; in  ex- 
cess of  which,  truly,  it  is  hard  to  say  whether  Teufelsdrockh 
or  ourselves  sin  the  more. 

We  have  often  blamed  him  for  a habit  of  wire-drawing  and 
over-refining  ; from  of  old  we  have  been  familiar  with  his  ten- 
dency  to  Mysticism  and  Eeligiosity,  whereby  in  every  thing 
he  was  still  scenting  out  Eeligion  : but  never  perhaps  did 
these  amaurosis -suffusions  so  cloud  and  distort  his  otherwise 
most  piercing  vision,  as  in  this  of  the  Dandiacal  Body  ! Or 
was  there  something  of  intended  satire  ; is  the  Professor  and 
Seer  not  quite  the  blinkard  he  affects  to  be  ? Of  an  ordinary 
mortal  we  should  have  decisively  answered  in  the  affirmative  ; 
but  with  a Tuefelsdrockh  there,  ever  hovers  some  shade  of 
doubt.  In  the  meanwhile,  if  satire  were  actually  intended, 
the  case  is  little  better.  There  are  not  wanting  men  who  will 
answer : Does  your  Professor  take  us  for  simpletons  ? His 
irony  has  overshot  itself ; we  see  through  it,  and  perhaps 
through  him. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

TAILORS. 

Thus,  however,  has  our  first  Practical  Inference  from  the 
Cloth  es-Philosophy,  that  which  respects  Dandies,  been  suffi- 
ciently drawn  ; and  we  come  now  to  the  second,  concerning 
Tailors.  On  this  latter  our  opinion  happily  quite  coincides 
with  that  of  Teufelsdrockh  himself,  as  expressed  in  the  con- 
cluding page  of  his  Volume  ; to  whom  therefore  we  willingly 
give  place.  Let  him  speak  his  own  last  words,  in  his  own 
way  : 

‘Upwards  of  a century/  says  he,  ‘must  elapse,  and  still  th© 
‘ bleeding  fight  of  Freedom  be  fought,  whoso  is  noblest  per- 
ishing in  the  van,  and  thrones  be  hurled  on  altars  like  Pelion 
‘ on  Ossa,  and  the  Moloch  of  Iniquity  have  his  victims,  and 
‘ the  Michael  of  Justice  his  martyrs,  before  Tailors  can  be  ad- 
mitted to  their  true  prerogatives  of  manhood,  and  this  last 
‘wound  of  suffering  Humanity  be  closed. 


228 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘If  aught  in  the  history  of  the  world’s  blindness  could  sur- 

* prise  us,  here  might  we  indeed  pause  and  wonder.  An  idea 
‘ has  gone  abroad,  and  fixed  itself  down  into  a wide-spreading 
‘rooted  error,  that  Tailors  are  a distinct  species  in  Physiology, 
‘not  Men,  but  fractional  Parts  of  a Man.  Call  any  one  a 

5 Schneider  (Cutter,  Tailor),  is  it  not,  in  our  dislocated,  liood- 

6 winked,  and  indeed  delirious  condition  of  Society,  equivalent 
‘to  defying  his  perpetual  fellest  enmity?  The  epithet 
‘ Schneidermassig  (Tailor- like)  betokens  an  otherwise  unap- 
‘ proachable  degree  of  pusillanimity  : we  introduce  a Tailor's 
‘ Melancholy , more  opprobrious  than  any  Leprosy,  into  our 
' Books  of  Medicine  ; and  fable  I know  not  what  of  his  genera- 
ting it  by  living  on  Cabbage.  Why  should  I speak  of  Hans 
‘ Sachs  (himself  a Shoemaker,  or  kind  of  Leather  Tailor),  with 
‘ his  Schneider  mil  dem  Panier  ? Why  of  Shakspeare,  in  his 
‘ Taming  of  the  Shrew , and  elsewhere  ? Does  it  not  stand  on 
‘ record  that  the  English  Queen  Elizabeth,  receiving  a depu- 
‘ tation  of  Eighteen  Tailors,  addressed  them  with  a “ Good 
‘morning,  gentlemen  both  ! ” Did  not  the  same  virago  boast 
‘ that  she  had  a Cavalry  Regiment,  whereof  neither  horse  nor 
‘ man  could  be  injured  : her  Regiment,  namely,  of  Tailors  on 
‘ Mares  ? Thus  everywhere  is  the  falsehood  taken  for  granted, 
‘ and  acted  on  as  an  indisputable  fact. 

‘ Nevertheless,  need  I put  the  question  to  any  Physiologist, 
‘ whether  it  is  disputable  or  not  ? Seems  it  not  at  least  pre- 
‘ sumable,  that,  under  his  Clothes,  the  Tailor  has  bones,  and 
‘ viscera,  and  other  muscles  than  the  sartorius  ? Which 
‘ function  of  manhood  is  the  Tailor  not  conjectured  to  per- 
‘ form  ? Can  he  not  arrest  for  debt  ? Is  he  not  in  most 
‘ countries  a tax-paying  animal  ? 

‘ To  no  reader  of  this  Volume  can  it  be  doubtful  which 

* conviction  is  mine.  Nay,  if  the  fruit  of  these  long  vigils, 
‘ and  almost  preternatural  Inquiries  is  not  to  perish  utterly, 
‘ the  world  will  have  approximated  towards  a higher  Truth  ; 
‘ and  the  doctrine,  which  Swift,  with  the  keen  forecast  oi 

* genius,  dimly  anticipated,  will  stand  revealed  in  clear  light : 
‘ that  the  Tailor  is  not  only  a Man,  but  something  of  a Crea* 
‘ tor  or  Divinity.  Of  Franklin  it  was  said,  that  “ he  snatched 


TAILORS . 


229 


* the  Thunder  from  Heaven  and  the  Sceptre  from  Kings  : * 

* but  which  is  greater,  I would  ask,  he  that  lends,  or  he  that 

* snatches  ? For,  looking  away  from  individual  cases,  and 

* how  a Man  is  by  the  Tailor  new-created  into  a Nobleman, 
‘ and  clothed  not  only  with  Wool  but  with  Dignity  and 
i a Mystic  Dominion, — is  not  the  fair  fabric  of  Society  it® 
‘ self,  with  all  its  royal  mantles  and  pontifical  stoles,  whereby, 
‘ from  nakedness  and  dismemberment,  we  are  organised  into 
6 Polities,  into  nations,  and  a whole  co-operating  Mankind, 
‘ the  creation,  as  has  here  been  often  irrefragably  evinced, 
‘ of  the  Tailor  alone  ? — What  too  are  all  Poets,  and  moral 

* Teachers,  but  a species  of  Metaphorical  Tailors  ? Touching 
‘ which  high  Guild  the  greatest  living  Guild-brother  has  tri- 
‘ umphantly  asked  us  : “ Nay,  if  thou  wilt  have  it,  who  but 
‘ the  Poet  first  made  Gods  for  men  ; brought  them  down  to 
‘ us  ; and  raised  us  up  to  them  ? ” 

* And  this  is  he,  whom  sitting  downcast,  on  the  hard  basis 
‘ of  his  Shopboard,  the  world  treats  with  contumely,  as  the 
‘ ninth  part  of  a man  ! Look  up,  thou  much-injured  one, 
e look  up  with  the  kindling  eye  of  hope,  and  prophetic  bod- 
( ings  of  a nobler  better  time.  Too  long  hast  thou  sat  there, 
‘ on  crossed  legs,  wearing  thy  ancle-joints  to  horn ; like  some 

* sacred  Anchorite,  or  Catholic  Fakir,  doing  penance,  drawing 
‘ down  Heaven’s  richest  blessings,  for  a world  that  scoffed  at 
‘ thee.  Be  of  hope  ! Already  streaks  of  blue  peer  through 

* our  clouds ; the  thick  gloom  of  Ignorance  is  rolling  asunder, 
‘ and  it  will  be  day.  Mankind  will  repay  with  interest  their 

* long-accumulated  debt : the  Anchorite  that  was  scoffed  at 
‘ will  be  worshipped  ; the  Fraction  will  become  not  an  In- 
‘ teger  only,  but  a Square  and  Cube.  With  astonishment  the 
6 world  will  recognise  that  the  Tailor  is  its  Hierophant,  and 
‘ Hierarch,  or  even  its  God. 

‘ As  I stood  in  the  Mosque  of  St.  Sophia,  and  looked  upon 

* these  Four-and-Twenty  Tailors,  sewing  and  embroidering 
‘ that  rich  Cloth,  which  the  Sultan  sends  yearly  for  the  Caaba 
‘ of  Mecca,  I thought  within  myself : How  many  other  Un- 
‘ holies  has  your  covering  Art  made  holy,  besides  this  Arabian 

* Whinstone ! 


230 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


6 Still  more  touching  was  it  when,  turning  the  corner  of  a 

* lane,  in  the  Scottish  Town  of  Edinburgh,  I came  upon  a 
‘ Signpost,  whereon  stood  written  that  such  and  such  a one 
‘was  “ Breeches-Maker  to  his  Majesty;”  and  stood  painted 
4 the  Effigies  of  a Pair  of  Leather  Breeches,  and  between  the 

* knees  these  memorable  words,  Sic  itur  ad  astra.  Was  not 
‘ this  the  martyr  prison-speech  of  a Tailor  sighing  indeed  in 
‘ bonds,  yet  sighing  towards  deliverance  ; and  prophetically 
‘appealing  to  a better  day?  A day  of  justice,  when  the 
‘ wTorth  of  Breeches  would  be  revealed  to  man,  and  the 
‘ Scissors  become  for  ever  venerable. 

‘ Neither,  perhaps,  may  I now  say,  has  his  appeal  been  alto- 
‘ gether  in  vain.  It  was  in  this  high  moment,  when  the  soul, 
‘ rent  as  it  were,  and  shed  asunder,  is  open  to  inspiring  in- 
‘ fluence,  that  I first  conceived  this  Work  on  Clothes  : the 
‘ greatest  I can  ever  hope  to  do ; which  has  already,  after 
‘ long  retardations,  occupied,  and  will  yet  occupy,  so  large  a 

* section  of  my  Life  ; and  of  which  the  Primary  and  simpler 

* Portion  may  here  find  its  conclusion/ 


CHAPTER  XH. 

FAREWELL. 

So  have  we  endeavoured,  from  the  enormous,  amorphous 
Plum-pudding,  more  like  a Scottish  Haggis,  which  Herr  Teu- 
felsdrockli  had  kneaded  for  his  fellow  mortals,  to  pick  out  the 
choicest  Plums,  and  present  them  separately  on  a cover  of 
our  own.  A laborious,  perhaps  a thankless  enterprise ; in 
which,  however,  something  of  hope  has  occasionally  cheered 
us,  and  of  which  we  can  now  wash  our  hands  not  altogether 
without  satisfaction.  If  hereby,  though  in  barbaric  wise, 
some  morsel  of  spiritual  nourishment  have  been  added  to  the 
scanty  ration  of  our  beloved  British  world,  what  nobler  recom- 
pense could  the  Editor  desire?  If  it  prove  otherwise,  why 
should  he  murmur  ? Was  not  this  a Task  which  Destiny,  in 
any  case,  had  appointed  him  ; which  having  now  done  with, 
he  sees  his  general  Day’s-work  so  much  the  lighter,  so  much 
the  shorter  ? 


FAREWELL, . 


231 


Of  Professor  Teufelsdrockh  it  seems  impossible  to  take 
leave  without  a mingled  feeling  of  astonishment,  gratitude  and 
disapproval.  Who  will  not  regret  that  talents,  which  might 
have  profited  in  the  higher  walks  of  Philosophy,  or  in  Art 
itself,  have  been  so  much  devoted  to  a rummaging  among 
lumber-rooms  ; nay,  too  often  to  a scraping  in  kennels,  where 
lost  rings  and  diamond-necklaces  are  nowise  the  sole  con- 
quests ? Eegret  is  unavoidable ; yet  censure  were  loss  of 
time.  To  cure  him  of  his  mad  humours  British  Criticism 
would  essay  in  vain  : enough  for  her  if  she  can,  by  vigilance, 
prevent  the  spreading  of  such  among  ourselves.  What  a re- 
sult, should  this  piebald,  entangled,  hyper-metaphorical  style 
of  writing,  not  to  say  of  thinking,  become  general  among  our 
Literary  men  ! As  it  might  so  easily  do.  Thus  has  not  the 
Editor  himself,  working  over  Teufelsdrockh’s  German,  lost 
much  of  his  own  English  purity  ? Even  as  the  smaller  whirl- 
pool is  sucked  into  the  larger,  and  made  to  whirl  along  with 
it,  so  has  the  lesser  mind,  in  this  instance,  been  forced  to  be- 
come portion  of  the  greater,  and,  like  it,  see  all  things  figura- 
tively : which  habit  time  and  assiduous  effort  will  be  needed 
to  eradicate. 

Nevertheless,  wayward  as  our  Professor  shews  himself,  is 
there  any  reader  that  can  part  with  him  in  declared  enmity  ? 
Let  us  confess,  there  is  that  in  the  wild,  much-suffering,  much- 
inflicting  man,  which  almost  attaches  us.  His  attitude,  we 
will  hope  and  believe,  is  that  of  a man  who  had  said  to  Cant, 
Begone  ; and  to  Dilettantism,  Here  thou  canst  not  be  : and  to 
Truth,  Be  thou  in  place  of  all  to  me  : a man  who  had  manfully 
defied  the  ‘ Time-Prince,’  or  Devil,  to  his  face  ; nay,  perhaps, 
Hannibal-like,  was  mysteriously  consecrated  from  birth  to 
that  warfare,  and  now  stood  minded  to  wage  the  same,  by  ail 
weapons,  in  all  places,  at  all  times.  In  such  a cause,  any 
soldier,  were  he  but  a Polack  Scytheman,  shall  be  welcome. 

Still  the  question  returns  on  us : How  could  a man  occa- 
sionally of  keen  insight,  not  without  keen  sense  of  propriety, 
who  had  real  Thoughts  to  communicate,  resolve  to  emit  them 
in  a shape  bordering  so  closely  on  the  absurd  ? Which  ques- 
tion  he  were  wiser  than  the  present  Editor  who  should  satis- 


232 


SARTOR  RES  ART  US. 


factorily  answer.  Our  conjecture  lias  sometimes  been,  that 
perhaps  Necessity  as  well  as  Choice  was  concerned  in  it. 
Seems  it  not  conceivable  that,  in  a Life  like  our  Professor’s, 
where  so  much  bountifully  given  by  Nature  had  in  Practice 
failed  and  misgone,  Literature  also  would  never  rightly  pros- 
per : that  striving  with  his  characteristic  vehemence  to  paint 
this  and  the  other  Picture,  and  ever  without  success,  he  at 
last  desperately  dashes  his  sponge,  full  of  all  colours,  against 
the  canvass,  to  try  whether  it  will  paint  Foam  ? With  ail  his 
stillness,  there  were  perhaps  in  Teufelsdrockh  desperation 
enough  for  this. 

A second  conjecture  we  hazard  with  even  less  warranty.  It 
is  that  Teufelsdrockh  is  not  without  some  touch  of  the  uni- 
versal feeling,  a wish  to  proselytise.  How  often  already  have 
we  paused,  uncertain  whether  the  basis  of  this  so  enigmatic 
nature  were  really  Stoicism  and  Despair,  or  Love  and  Hope 
only  seared  into  the  figure  of  these  ! Remarkable,  moreover, 
is  this  saying  of  his  : ‘ How  were  Friendship  possible  ? In 
‘ mutual  devotedness  to  the  Good  and  True : otherwise  im- 
‘ possible  ; except  as  Armed  Neutrality,  or  hollow  Commercial 
£ League.  A man,  be  the  Heavens  ever  praised,  is  sufficient 
‘ for  himself ; yet  were  ten  men,  united  in  Love,  capable  of 
‘ being  and  of  doing  what  ten  thousand  singly  would  fail  in. 
‘ Infinite  is  the  help  man  can  yield  to  man.’  And  now  in  con- 
junction therewith  consider  this  other  : ‘ It  is  the  Night  of 
‘ the  World,  and  still  long  till  it  be  Day  : we  wander  amid  the 
‘ glimmer  of  smoking  ruins,  and  the  Sun  and  the  Stars  of 
* Heaven  are  as  if  blotted  out  for  a season  ; and  two  immeas- 
‘ urable  Fan  toms,  Hypocrisy  and  Atheism,  with  the  Gowle, 
‘ Sensuality,  stalk  abroad  over  the  Earth,  and  call  it  theirs  : 
£ well  at  ease  are  the  Sleepers  for  whom  Existence  is  a shallow 
6 Dream.’ 

But  what  of  the  awestruck  Wakeful  who  find  it  a Reality? 
Should  not  these  unite  ; since  even  an  authentic  Spectre  is 
not  visible  to  Two? — In  which  case  were  this  enormous 
Clothes-Voluine  properly  an  enormous  Pitchpan,  which  our 
Teufelsdrockh  in  his  lone  watchtower  had  kindled,  that  it 
might  flame  far  and  wide  through  the  Night,  and  many  a dis- 


FAREWELL. 


233 


consolately  wandering  spirit  be  guided  thither  to  a Brother’s 
bosom  ! — We  say  as  before,  with  all  his  malign  Indifference, 
who  knows  what  mad  Hopes  this  man  may  harbour  ? 

Meanwhile  there  is  one  fact  to  be  stated  here,  which  har- 
monises ill  with  such  conjecture  ; and,  indeed,  were  Teufels- 
drockh made  like  other  men,  might  as  good  as  altogether 
subvert  it.  Namely,  that  while  the  Beacon-fire  blazed  its 
brightest,  the  Watchman  had  quitted  it ; that  no  pilgrim 
could  now  ask  him : Watchman,  what  of  the  Night  ? Pro- 
fessor Teufelsdrockh,  be  it  known,  is  no  longer  visibly  present 
at  Weissnicktwo,  but  again  to  all  appearance  lost  in  Space  ! 
Some  time  ago,  the  Hofratli  Heuschrecke  was  pleased  to  favor 
us  with  another  copious  Epistle  ; wherein  much  is  said  about 
the  6 Population-Institute ; ’ much  repeated  in  praise  of  the 
Paperbag  Documents,  the  hieroglyphic  nature  of  which  our 
Hofrath  still  seems  not  to  have  surmised  ; and,  lastly,  the 
strangest  occurrence  communicated,  to  us  for  the  first  time, 
in  the  following  paragraph  : 

4 Ew . Wohlgebohren  will  have  seen,  from  the  public  Prints, 
4 with  what  affectionate  and  hitherto  fruitless  solicitude  Weiss- 
4 niclitwo  regards  the  disappearance  of  her  Sage.  Might 
4 but  the  united  voice  of  Germany  prevail  on  him  to  return  ; 
4 nay,  could  we  but  so  much  as  elucidate  for  ourselves  by 
4 what  mystery  he  went  away  ! But,  alas,  old  Leischen  ex- 
4 periences  or  affects  the  profoundest  deafness,  the  profound- 
4 est  ignorance  : in  the  Wahngasse  all  lies  swept,  silent,  sealed 
4 up  ; the  Privy  Council  itself  can  hitherto  elicit  no  answer. 

4 It  had  been  remarked  that  while  the  agitating  news  of 
4 those  Parisian  Three  Days  flew  from  mouth  to  mouth,  and 
4 dinned  every  ear  in  Weissnichtwo,  Herr  Teufelsdrockh  was 
4 not  known,  at  the  Ganse  or  elsewhere,  to  have  spoken,  for  a 
4 whole  week,  any  syllable  except  once  these  three  : Es  geht  an 
4 (It  is  beginning).  Shortly  after,  as  Ew.  Wohlgebohren  knows, 
4 was  the  public  tranquillity  here,  as  in  Berlin,  threatened  by 
4 a Sedition  of  the  Tailors.  For  did  there  want  Evil-wishers, 
4 or  perhaps  mere  desperate  Alarmist,  who  asserted  that  the 
4 closing  Chapter  of  the  Clothes-Volume  was  to  blame.  In 
4 this  appalling  crisis,  the  serenity  of  our  Philosopher  was 


234 


SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


‘ indescribable : nay,  perhaps,  through  one  humble  indi- 

* vidual,  something  thereof  might  pass  into  the  Rath  (Council) 
‘ itself,  and  so  contribute  to  the  country’s  deliverance.  The 
‘ Tailors  are  now  entirely  pacificated. — To  neither  of  these 

* two  incidents  can  I attribute  our  loss  : yet  still  comes  there 
‘ the  shadow  of  a suspicion  out  of  Paris  and  its  Politics.  For 
‘ example,  when  the  Saint-Simonian  Society  transmitted  its 
‘ Propositions  hither,  and  the  whole  Ganse  was  one  vast  cackle 
‘ of  laughter,  lamentation,  and  astonishment,  our  Sage  sat 

* mute  ; and  at  the  end  of  the  third  evening,  said  merely  : 
‘ “Here  also  are  men  who  have  discovered,  not  without 
‘ amazement,  that  Man  is  still  Man  ; of  which  high,  long-for- 

* gotten  Truth  you  already  see  them  make  a false  application/' 
1 Since  then,  as  has  been  ascertained  by  examination  of  the 
6 Post-Director,  there  passed  at  least  one  Letter  with  its 

* Answer  between  the  Messieurs  Bazard-Enfantin  and  our 

* Professor  himself ; of  what  tenor  can  now  only  be  con- 
‘ jectured.  On  the  fifth  night  following,  he  was  seen  for  the 
( last  time  ! 

* Has  this  invaluable  man,  so  obnoxious  to  most  of  the 
€ hostile  Sects  that  convulse  our  Era,  been  spirited  away  by 

* certain  of  their  emissaries  ; or  did  he  go  forth  voluntarily  to 
‘ their  headquarters  to  confer  with  them,  and  confront  them  ? 

* Reason  we  have,  at  least  of  a negative  sort,  to  believe  the 

* Lost  still  living  : our  widowed  heart  also  whispers  that  ere 
‘ long  he  will  himself  give  a sign.  Otherwise,  indeed,  must 
‘ his  archives,  one  day,  be  opened  by  Authority  ; where  much, 

* perhaps  the  Palingenesie  itself,  is  thought  to  be  reposited.’ 

Thus  far  the  Hofrath ; who  vanishes,  as  is  his  wont,  too  like 
an  Ignis  Fatuus,  leaving  the  dark  still  darker. 

So  that  Teufelsdrockh’s  public  History  were  not  done,  then, 
or  reduced  to  an  even,  unromantic  tenor  ; nay,  perhaps,  the 
better  part  thereof  were  only  beginning?  We  stand  in  a 
region  of  conjectures,  where  substance  has  melted  into 
shadow,  and  one  cannot  be  distinguished  from  the  other. 
May  Time,  which  solves  or  suppresses  all  problems,  throw 
glad  light  on  this  also  ! Our  own  private  conjecture,  now 


FAREWELL. 


235 


amounting  almost  to  certainty,  is  that,  safe-moored  in  some 
stillest  obscurity,  not  to  lie  always  still,  Teufelsdrockh  is  actu- 
ally in  London  ! 

Here,  however,  can  the  present  Editor,  with  an  ambrosial 
joy  as  of  over- weariness  falling  into  sleep,  lay  down  his  pen. 
Well  does  he  know,  if  human  testimony  be  worth  aught,  that  to 
innumerable  British  readers  likewise,  this  is  a satisfying  con- 
summation ; that  innumerable  British  readers  consider  him, 
during  these  current  months,  but  as  an  uneasy  interruption  to 
their  ways  of  thought  and  digestion ; and  indicate  so  much, 
not  without  a certain  irritancy  and  even  spoken  invective.  For 
which,  as  for  other  mercies,  ought  he  not  to  thank  the  Upper 
Powers  ? To  one  and  all  of  you,  O irritated  readers,  he,  with 
outstretched  arms  and  open  heart,  will  wave  a kind  farewell. 
Thou  too,  miraculous  Entity,  who  namest  thyself  Yorke  and 
Oliver,  and  with  thy  vivacities  and  genialities,  with  thy  all  too 
Irish  mirth  and  madness,  and  odour  of  palled  punch,  makest 
such  strange  work,  farewell ; long  as  thou  canst,  far  e-well ! 
Have  we  not,  in  the  course  of  Eternity,  travelled  some  months 
of  our  Life-journey  in  partial  sight  of  one  another  ; have  we 
not  existed  together,  though  in  a state  of  quarrel  ? 


a’.  • ' 


1 


e 


